Acts of Desperate Men
by Black-Angel-001
Summary: There are moments in life you'll never forget, moments you'll never forgive. The past comes to hit Roy and John, hard. Rated for plot, death, and mild launguage. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: alright, first and foremost, i would like to make a few things clear. i am not a doctor. i am not a nurse. i am not a paramedic. i am not in any way a proffessional in the medical field. the only medical training i've had is the detailed basics of military first aid and such. i am only quailified to do cpr and put a band-aid on my 6 year old cousin's scrapped knees. most of what you will find in this fic is researched. if there is anything wrong medically, please let me know. as always, i am not trying to step on toes or insult anyone, so please do not send me a flame saying anything of the sort. please do not send me a review telling me there's no such street as 'insert whatever here' in LA County. i am aware of this fact. my geographical knowledge of that area is non-existant, so i use what i know. now, all that being said, if there are no questions, let us begin!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Emergency or anything related to it. All other disclaimers are stated above.**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_For some moments if life there are no words_." --David Seltzer, _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_

The mood at Station 51 was calm, relatively, as the men on "A" shift discussed their adventures on their days off. Captain Stanely stood just outside the doorway of the dayroom, hating that he was about to hurt someone he respected, knowing it would get worse before it got better, and accepted it, although reluctantly. He took a step forward and cleared his throat.

"Roy? John? You two need to come to my office." He didn't elaborate but his tone said 'now', not 'three minutes from now.'

DeSoto and Gage exchanged looks in a silent conversation that partners who'd been together for years could do.

"Shift's barely started and already Gage is in trouble," Chet said to Marco, gesturing vaugly.

John made a face at the Irishman, but didn't make a reply, figuring seeing what is Captain wanted was more important than giving a snappy comeback. As usual, the office door was open and Stanely was sitting at his desk, two men in suits standing nearby.

"I took the squad out of service, just until Dwyer gets here, which should be in about the next ten minutes," he said, his gaze going from one man to the other evenly.

John shifted his feet and put his hands on his hips loosly, eyebrows knitting together.

"Dwyer? Uh, Cap, don't you think three paramedics is a bit much?"

Stanely leaned forward, his easy-going manner replaced by a more serious one.

"Gage, there's a reason why I'm putting the squad in, and you're just going to have to deal with it. Got it?"

The young paramedic straightened, taken aback by Hank's words and mood. He shot a quick look at Roy, then re-focused on his Captain. "Yeah, I got it."

"Alright, then unless Roy wants you to stick around then you can go." Hank glanced at the suits.

Roy looked at the men too, evaluating them. Cops, he figured, detectives to be more exact. He didn't know the police system too well, but he'd interacted with enough cops on runs to know the difference between a 'street roller' and a 'house sitter'. The two standing there definetly weren't street cops and they definetly weren't messengers of good news.

He looked at his partner, who was ready to burst with curiosity. In the pit of his stomach, Roy felt a knot form, getting tighter with each breath. If it was bad news, did he want Johnny there? John gave him a look, one that easily read, "If you want me to go, fine, but I'm gonna ask you about it and it will probably drive you crazy." And he would, Roy knew. Nah, it would be better to keep him around, because Johnny always watched his back.

"He can stay." Roy looked at the cops again.

"Gage, close the door," warned Cap. He wasn't sure about Roy's reaction, but he'd be damned if he'd let anyone else see it before the man was ready.

When the door was shut, the older of the two cops took a tiny step forward.

"Mr. DeSoto, I'm Detective Adam Barton. My partner, Todd Burnes." The younger man nodded. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but this morning your wife was involved in a hit and run."

Roy knew his face was white, he could feel the blood draining away. The knot was tighter than ever, so much so that if felt like he'd been hit. He must've staggered, or swayed, or something, because John had gripped his arm and tried to move him to a chair to sit down. Roy refused to budge.

Working past the pain in his throat, Roy had to ask, "Was it real bad?"

"Bad enough. She was taken to Rampart General Hospital, and last I knew she was alive. I told the hospital to call here on any updates until you got there." He sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mr. DeSoto."

Roy said something, he must've, but all he really knew was that he was in his car urging it to go faster, even though he was pushing forty. It wasn't a long drive to Rampart from the station, five in good traffic, fifeteen in bad, but he felt each second and cursed that. In his head, all he could see was Joanne, her expressions, her actions, everything about her from the time they'd met in fourth grade to dinner last night. Roy tried to focus on the road and traffic, an accident would only slow him down and eat up time he didn't have, but it didn't work. The control and calm he was famous for in the department eluded him now, and Roy didn't know what to do to get it back.

Finally, finally, he was pulling into Rampart and sprinting for the emergency room. The familiar smell of anitseptic and cleaning solution calmed him just enough that he could think on what to do. He went to the nurses' station, hoping and praying Dixie was there. He trusted Dix to be level with him, even if...

No! He couldn't go there, not yet!

God, the little winged cherubs, someone up there had heard him. Dixie McCall turned her blonde head his way.

"He just showed up. Yeah, right. Bye." She hung up the phone carefully, and faced him fully, coming around from behind the counter. Her blue eyes, which had always been so expressive to him, locked and held his, which were now big and wide in his pale face.

"Roy, you need to go to room 614," she said gently.

DeSoto opened his mouth, but this time he could get around that burning pain in his throat. So he nodded and took off again, heading for the elevator. He punched the button savagly, bounced on his heels, and punched it somemore, as if that would make it go faster. He was considering the stairs when finally, finally, although it hadn't been more than two minutes, the doors opened. The ride to the sixth floor, the intensive care unit, his mind supplied numbly, seemed to take another eternity, before Roy was stepping off and running again. It vaugly crossed his mind that he might beat Johnny right now if they were to race, but then he was at the door and Johnny and races were completely forgotten.

When Roy went in the room, he felt that knot twist again, harder, and he did feel his knees buckle. Joanne was on a hospital bed, surrounded by machines and the various noises they made. Stark white bandages covered her, a blatant contrast to her bruised skin. Brackett and Early hovered close by, talking quietly. They looked at him, sympathy and pity making their eyes dark. As Roy sat next to his wife, Brackett came up beside him, dropped a hand on his shoulder. Roy flinched.

"Roy, she's in very serious condition right now, lost a lot of blood."

Something other than cold, paralyzing fear seeped into Roy's veins, making him want to hit Kel Brackett and shout, _"Of course she's in 'very serious condition'! She's been hit by a car!"_ He wanted to smash Joe Early's head through the window, just to get that look off the man's face, the one that said he didn't think the patient was going to make it.

He wanted to, very badly; he could just see it in his head, in fact. But he didn't. Instead, he carefully took Joanne's hand and ran his thumb over the wedding ring he'd given her. Brackett was still talking, listing her injuries, he realized. Even though the paramedic in him was interested, the part that was in control, the part of him that was Joanne DeSoto's husband, couldn't take it.

"Not now," he choked out. He'd meant to sound in control, calm, because that's who he was, who he had to be. "Later, please. But not now-" Roy bent his head over Joanne's hand.

The two doctors exchanged in a silent conversation, then left. They felt helpless, useless, now. All that could be done had been, at least medically. Now, everyone, including them, had to appeal to a higher power. Even though they knew it, had even accepted it somewhere inside, they were racking their brains and going through all their years of experience, training, and schooling to find a way to help the woman a man they admired and respected keep her life.

Roy held her hand and talked to her, telling her all sorts of things, from his brief time in Vietnam to some pranks that had been played around the station. He told her about his last shift, and the little boy he and Johnny lost. He told her his plans for his next couple of days off, the plans he was making for their anniversary, even though it was five months away. He told her everything he could think of, then he'd run out of that, he pleaded with her not to leave him, outright begged her. He made promises and bargins, teased and cajouled, but Joanne never stirred, her color never got better. Then Roy was reduced to tearful pleading with God. At that moment, he would have sold his soul or given his life, if it meant Joanne would make it through and open her eyes.

Roy loved her eyes, the same color as hot chocolate, and just as enticing. In case he had never told her that, he told her then. The whole time, he had no idea if she heard him and Roy felt that if she hadn't heard all the pointless white noise, then she hadn't heard all the 'I love you's' either. Something tore apart inside him at the idea, but it wasn't that not. So, he covered her hand with both of his, and squeezed it as hard as he dared. He paused. Squeezed. Paused. Squeezed. Then he kissed her hand, right above her ring and right under her knuckle.

One day while driving to a get together of firemen, the kids had been a bit more rambunchus than usual, making it near impossivle for their parents to talk. Seeing Joanne near the end of her rope in patience, Roy had taken her hand, squeezed it three times, and kissed her finger right between the ring and knuckle.

Three squeezes, one for each word of 'I love you'.

She had beamed and squeezed his hand back four times for 'I love you, too'.

For the rest of the ride, their hands had stayed locked together. Since then, they'd used that 'secret language' whenever the other was upset, or hurt, or just because. Sometimes when he was at work, they'd call each other and tap it out on the phone, then hang up without saying a word.

It was their special way of reconnecting with each other.

"Come on, baby," he whisphered, kissing that little spot again. "Please." He squeezed again, three times.

Above the sound of the EKG machine's beeps, and above the sound of the resperator's hisses, Roy heard the clock tick a minute away, then another.

There was a light pressure on his hand. Roy froze, held his breath, afraid to miss anything. Another minute. A second light pressure, a third, a fourth. Roy pressed kisses all over the back of her hand, on her face.

"I heard it sweetheart, I got it." He went to sit in his chair again but missed it and ended up on his knees on the floor. "God, Annie, I got it."

Roy was on his feet again in the next instant when the slow beeping EKG let out a steady sound, one he was way too familiar with. Frantic, DeSoto pushed the call button and began CPR, only to be pushed away by doctors and nurses four minutes later. He watched as the defibulator was wheeled in, and when someone gently guided him out the door and into the hallway, he watched that first charge surge through his wife. Then the door closed and he couldn't see or hear any of what was going on.

Just like on his way to the hospital, Roy found himself stepping off the elevator and into the emergency room area without really being sure how he did it. His entire body was on autopilot, allowing whoever it was with him to guide him to a seat in the waiting room. The knot was getting bigger and tighter, filling his chest and making it hard to breath. Brackett and Early were approaching him, he saw out of the corner of his eye. Brackett stopped next to Dixie and stayed there, and Early kept coming. The doctor didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, he just kept rubbing them together. Early stood off to the side of Roy, looking at the floor. He took a deep breath, let it out, and looked the fireman in the face.

"I'm so sorry, Roy."

DeSoto figured whatever you learned in med school about giving bad news flew out the window when it came to the real thing.

_Joanne's dead. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead, she'sdeadshe'sdeadshe'sdeadshe'sdead..._

And that knot that had been in him since morning unravled and the last thing Roy felt was something shattering into millions of pieces before everything was numb.

For the first time in a long time, Dixie had no idea what to say or do to comfort. It was even more frustrating because she counted Roy as one of her closest friends and she just didn't know what to do for him. Maybe if he cried or something she'd have an idea, but Roy just sat in that little corner of the waiting room, pale and listless, staring at nothing.

"I called Johnny at the station. He's on his way," she told Kel while still staring at Roy.

"Well, maybe he can do something." Kel sighed and shook his head. "Her mother and sister are on their way, too." He glanced at Dixie, then back to one of his best paramedics in the program. "Let me know if I can help."

Dixie nodded as he walked off and almost sighed in relief when she saw John come through the doors. He spotted his partner quick enough, but went to Dixie first.

"How long has he been like that?" Gage jerked a thumb in DeSoto's direction as Dix looked at her wristwatch.

"Almost fifeteen minutes now. No one can get through to him, it's like he's tuned out everything else."

John sighed and turned to look at Roy. "I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll try." He stalked over to him and crouched down in front. "Hey, pally," he said, keeping his voice soft. Roy didn't react, but Johnny knew it wouldn't be that easy. "Listen, uh, if you want, we can go somewhere, anywhere you want." Nothing. A child laughed in the room and he saw Roy wince. An idea came to him, making him snap his fingers. "Oh, that's right, you've gotta pick up the kids from school soon." A hand twitched. _'That's it, parnter. Come back to us, if for no other reason than your kids.'_

"But, maybe you should change out of your uniform first, huh?" Roy blinked.

"What about you," he asked, voice flat.

"What about me?"

Now Roy looked at John, really looked at him and saw him, and John could have jumped for joy. "You're still in uniform."

Absently, Gage ran a hand over his shirt. "But I'm still on shift."

"Then I am too." And if the set of his shoulder's was any indication, Johnny could tell Roy was serious.

"No, Cap took you off for a while. That's why Dwyer's in with me for this shift."

Roy felt a question form in his mind, could tell his mouth opened to ask it, but he didn't allow it. It was a ridiculous, stupid question, considering how old he was. He wasn't five, he didn't need someone to keep away bad monsters or anything like them.

But the thought still kept popping in his head.

_Johnny, help me?_

Gage's eyebrows knit together. "Roy?"

He didn't need help from anyone to pick up the pieces, best friend or not. He didn't need the understanding or the shoulder to lean on.

"Johnny, I don't think I can-" DeSoto sucked in a deep, shaky breath, trying to get a handle on the tears pricking his eyes. He'd be damned if he broke down in a hospital.

"Okay, alright, I'll help you." Johnny put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. To his dismay, the words seemed to make Roy look worse. "Do you want to go back to the station or home?"

If the idea of going to the station was unappealing, the idea of going home was downright appaling. Seeing the torture on his best friend's face made John curse himself. "Or anywhere, just tell me what you want."

Roy stilled a moment, then shook his head and scrubbed his face roughly with one hand. "No, you're right. I've gotta get the kids."

"Listen, if you need time to pull together then we'll figure something out," assured Johnny.

Roy shook his head again and stood, taking more deep breaths. "It'll be okay, I'll be okay, don't worry about it." He repeated it like a prayer, softly and to himself. He was so focused on it, he didn't pay attention to what Johnny was saying or doing, just forced one foot in front of the other until he was out the door and in his car.

John stared after his friend, feeling helpless and unsure. While Roy did have his moments, they were far and few between, so he was at a loss on what to do. And even though they were best friends, Roy didn't always share his problems with Johnny, or let the younger man help him.

That way of thinking made John wonder: was he and Roy really best friends? That's what he said all the time, but Roy never had. In fact, the senior paramedic would more often than not roll his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh, like he was only tolerating something.

So, maybe Roy didn't want, or even need, his help?

It could have been his thoughts, or that he was thinking of her and remembering her, it being so soon after her death and all, but Johnny could have sworn that Joanne was standing next to him, staring into the same space as he. As if they could still see Roy's back. She looked exactly like she had the last time he'd seen her-in a summber dress, short hair decorated with a few stylish beretts, just enough make up to accent her classicly beautiful features. The ghostly vision next to him wore the same expression she'd had that time at the picnic 51's had: sad, thoughtful, so much older than her years.

"I know it's hard to understand what's going on with him, Johnny. Roy doesn't put his feelings out for everyone to see so if, or when, something happens as it usually does, he can help everyone else get through it."

Exactly like that moment weeks ago, she carefully tucked a bit of stray hair behind her ear and sighed.

"I'm always told that Roy is a pillar of strength for his shiftmates, a rock for them to lean on when things get tough. But," here her gaze darkened ever so slightly. "But, who's going to be there for him, if things get tough and he needs a rock to lean on, when he crumbles?"

It had blown his mind then and it did again. John could harldy imagine a time when Roy DeSoto would need a rock of his own, as it were. Besides, he always had Joanne.

Except he doesn't anymore.

The memory (or spirit?) of Joanne faded, smiling, leaving Johnny to ponder her last question.

_Who's going to be there for him, if things get tough and he needs a rock to lean on?_

Why, his best buddy, of course.

**Black-Angel-001: i hated to do it, i didn't want to, but it's a setup for future chapters. there's more angst in later chapters, and it won't be pretty. when is angst pretty though, right? anywho, that's it so far. trust me, there's more to it than just this; look for weird twists and turns! review! click the little green button and put a smile on my face! please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: thanks for all the great reviews! sorry if i made you cry, but it isn't going to get better any time soon....on a seperate note (sorta), if you leave an anonomous review, please leave an email, so i can respond easier if you've got questions.**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_When it hurts to look back, and you're scared to look forward, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there_." -Anon

As an Army medic , there'd been plenty of times when Roy had had to make a tough descision. As a fireman, and now paramedic, it was worse because not only did he have to make those tough choices, he had to make hard explinations. In the civilian world, as opposed to military life, there wasn't any comfortable rule or regulation or code that you could use-it wasn't that simple. But, harder than having to choose between treating one man and not another, harder than have to call a Code F, was looking his children in the eye and telling them that mom wasn't coming home, ever. Just as hard, or maybe worse, was answering their questions.

_Why wasn't she coming back?_

_Was it because they'd been fighting? They promised not to anymore._

_Did he and mom have a fight?_

_Didn't she love them anymore?_

He said, of course mom loved them, very much. Then he explained, as carefully as he could, that mom couldn't ever come back, that it wasn't because of them or what they did, it wasn't because of something he did, but because someone had hit her with a car, and hurt her so bad the doctors couldn't make her better.

The children were old enough that death wasn't too foreign a concept, although their innocence kept them from thinking about it too much. So, the idea that their mother was dead wasn't hard to understand, it was just hard to grasp. His son tried to deny it, even when his sister broke down into tears and threw herself into her father's lap. He tried even harder when his father hugged her and rocked her. But when his dad began to cry, Christopher DeSoto could deny it anymore. Roy put an arm around his oldest and pulled him close, letting them both sob and scream while his own silent tears fell from his face and into their hair.

It wasn't the release he wanted, or needed. Not even close. But, his children needed him to put his own wants aside, so he could take care of them.

About an hour later, the kids were reduced to hiccups and had fallen asleep, cuddled on his lap. A half an hour later, Roy, too, fell asleep.

Why could he hear someone knocking on the front door? Roy groaned and opened his eyes, blinking against the morning sunlight. What was he doing in the living room arm chair? The knocking was becoming harder and heavier.

"Joanne, would you-" he cut himself off. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Roy made himself get up and answer the door, and was nearly punched in the face for it.

" 'Bout time, I thought you weren't home." Johnny looked Roy over carefully and frowned, brow wrinkling. "You look terrible."

Roy's dry, "Gee thanks" was drowned out by Jenny's excited, "Uncle Johnny's here!"

The eight year old pushed her way around her father's legs and latched onto her "uncle's", smiling up at him adoringly. John bent to pick her up and gave an over-exagerated groan.

"Oh, you're getting too big to be picked up like this, aren't ya, Jenny-bean?" He grinned and raseberry-kissed her cheek, making the little girl giggle and squirm. Roy couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips.

"Uncle Johnny, come in and have breakfast with us, Mama can fix panc-" Jenny's mouth formed a little "o", like she'd just remembered something and sniffed. Roy's smile faded as he took his daughter and held her, stroking her hair. Jenny wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You want to help me make pancakes," he asked her. She nodded and said something, but it was muffled. Roy chuckled and John could see it was only because his little girl needed it. "Sure, we can put strawberries on them."

Jenny lifted her head, perked by the promise. "Okay, I'll tell Chris," she said squirming. Roy set her down and off she ran, calling for her brother.

John and Roy stood on the porch, akward with each other without knowing why.

"You want to stay for breakfast," Roy finallly asked.

"Do you mind?" If Roy really didn't want him there, that was fine. Okay, not really, but he'd be able to deal with it.

"It'd be good for the kids," his partner commented in an off-hand kind of way. He went inside, leaving the door open for John to follow, if he wanted.

Johnny stepped in and quietly closed the door behind him.

Chris and Jenny were in the kitchen, arguing about how many eggs they needed and who would help cook, as oppossed to who would set the table. Chris was the first to notice their father and Uncle Johnny come in and stopped mid-sentance, looking guilty. Jenny shared his look.

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"No, sir," Chris said at the same time Jen said, "No, Daddy."

John clapped his hands together and smiled widely. "So, who wants to help me cook?"

Jennifer looked at her brother, who shrugged and went to the silverware drawer. Beaming, Jenny waved her hand, saying "I do!"

"Alright, then Chris can set the table, your dad can take a shower, and-"

"No."

John froze and the smile lost some of it's brightness. "No," he repeated, suddenly afraid he'd crossed some unknown line.

"No, I'm not leaving you in my kitchen; I'd like to keep it and prevent my kids from getting sick off your lousy cooking." Roy took the eggs out of Gage's hand, counting down in his head from three.

Right on cue, Johnny began an indignant tyrade to defend his cooking, making the kids laugh and Roy smile inwardly, even though on the outside he rolled his eyes.

Making breakfast didn't quite go according to plan. Jenny accidentaly dropped pieces of eggshell in the pancake batter, Roy spilled milk and batter reaching over to help John try to start the coffee maker, Chris dropped a glass, and John cut his finger slicing strawberries. To top it off, what pancakes they had left were burned while trying to pick out eggshells, clean up milk and batter, figure out why the coffee maker wasn't working, make sure Roy's ten year old hadn't cut himself, clean up glass, and take care of John's cut.

They settled for cereal and fruit.

The kitchen was a mess, bowls and utensils stacked hazourdously, spills left to be wiped up later, and various bits of trash laying on the counter. They were laughing, including Roy, about the pancake mishap, and John counted a victory.

"So, pally, what were you saying about keeping your kitchen," joked John.

The corners of DeSoto's mouth twitched upwards. Whatever quip he was about to make was interupted by someone knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell at the same time. The smile disappeared into a frown, and Roy excused himself. John and the kids became quiet, straining to so they could hear what was said. Unforturnatly, they didn't have to.

"What happened, how could this have, I knew it was a bad idea for Joanne to come down here, I told her so! And look at you! Your wife's been dead for barely a day and you're going to leave her children and go to work, instead of taking responsibility for them like any decent man-"

"Martha, enough." Roy's quiet command did quiet the older woman, but for how long, wondered Johnny.

He was so angry at what she was saying, John was shaking. He looked at the kids, knowing they'd heard too. Chris was frowning and Jenny was almost in tears. That only fueled his anger and annoyance with Roy's mother in law.

Chris and Jenny left the table and walked hand in hand to the living room. Gage followed behind them, just as Martha spoke again.

"Don't you dare think you can use that tone on me, Roy DeSoto! I won't stand for it!" She looked behind him and smiled genuinely. "There's my grandbabies." For all that she didn't like her son in law, Martha did love her daughter's children. Then she saw John behind them. Her smile wavered and disappeared into a sniff of disdain.

"Roy, how about I take the kids to the park for a while? I'm sure you have things to do." Roy looked at Stacey, Joanne's younger sister, for the first time since they came in the house.

Before he could say anything, Martha scoffed.

" 'Things to do'? Ha, more likely he'll get himself into a drunken stupor." Stacey gasped, Roy narrowed his eyes, and Johnny stepped forward.

"Now that's pushing it too far, lady," he said angrily, brown eyes blazing. "You've no right to-"

"Well, I can understand why you've never lost your rude attitude, even with being married to my Joanne," Martha said scornfully, as if John hadn't said a word. "Because of you heathen, gutter-rat of a partner."

Gage recoiled as if he'd been struck. Sure, he'd been called worse, much worse, but that didn't mean the insults didn't hurt.

"Stacey, yes, thank you. Kids, get your coats and listen to your Aunt for me." Roy smiled for them but it was strained and forced.

Wide-eyed, they nodded and did as told. Roy gave Stacey the use of his car, and until the sound of the engine faded down the street no one said a word.

"Martha," he said with the anger barely controlled in his voice, "I'm going to call you a taxi and you are going to stay at a motel."

The woman's eyes went wide with fury. "How dare you! You can't-"

"Don't pull that indignant crap on me," DeSoto shouted suddenly, making both Martha and John jump. "I've put up with your snide remarks, and coy insults only because of Joanne. What makes you think you can walk in here, openly insult me in my own home, in front of my children, then insult my friend and think I'll take it? To hell with that!"

Martha's mouth flapped open and closed like a fish.

"Apologize to Johnny, get your bags, and get the hell out of my house," commanded Roy voice quieter but still just as harsh.

More mouth flapping. She turned her shell-shocked expression to John and said in a rather small voice, "I'm sorry."

She didn't mean it, they all knew that. But John nodded anyway, because it would make her leave that much quicker, get her away from Roy that much faster. Having apologized, she turned, grabbed her suitcase and garment bag, and walked out, slamming the door like a petulant child.

Roy took a deep breath, held it for a three count, and let it hiss out between his teeth. "I'd better call that cab before something else happens," he said in his normal, quiet way.

"You okay?" Although it was fairly well-hidden, John could hear and see the anger and pain still humming underneath the surface.

"No, but I will be." Roy could be that truthful, at least. He dialed for the taxi, and satisfied it would be there soon, turned to his partner. "Johnny, I'm sorry about earlier."

"I can't believe that woman said those things! And in front of your kids? Man, she is nuts!"

Roy frowned. "Look, I'll make it up to you, so don't worry about it."

"Make it up to me?" John blinked in confusion. "Roy, you don't have to do that. I mean, you're the one she insulted after all."

Roy's face went blank as he added two and two only to get three. Not unusual, considering it was Johnny he was talking to, but Roy couldn't help but ask himself, 'What in the world is he talking about?'

"Uh, Johnny, she insulted you too."

His partner waved it off, shaking his head. "Ah, it's not the worst thing anyone's ever called me."

DeSoto figured he was probably right about that, but there was that look in his eyes...

He was so used to trying to lift Johnny from his darker moods, he couldn't stop himself from doing it then, even though he himself was hurting.

"Well, if nothing else, now you've got a great reason to use that hatchet Kelly gave you," he joked with a weak grin.

Gage blinked again and Roy won a surprised bit of laughter from him. But Roy's grin faded at the sound of a car horn, probably from the taxi.

"I should start cleaning up, change..." he trailed off, getting a distant look.

"If you want, I can stick around, help you out." Roy shook his head. John's face fell. "Oh. Alright. I gues I'll uh...I guess I'll see you later then. Call me if you need anything."

But Roy wasn't really listening anymore; he just nodded and sank down onto the couch, the memories of yesterday hitting him like lightning.

Johnny silently went out the door, pausing only long enough to look back in time to see Roy's head fall into his hands, his shoulders shaking. Seeing him so broken, John just couldn't leave Roy like that. So, he went back in, shut the door, and just sat on the couch with him, not saying a word.

For Roy, knowing that silent comfort was there, that someone was ready to listen if he needed it, that a safety net was ready to catch him, made it easier for him to fall and grieve like he'd wanted since he saw Brackett and Early walk down that hallway.

So, he let go.

And his best friend was there to catch him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: okay, so i haven't updated in a while, so i'm posting two chapters and new oneshot emergency story, 'time off'. does that make up for the time? -gives puppy dog eyes-**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

_"And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow-let it be." -_The Beatles_, 'Let It Be'_

He couldn't have told you what the weather was like, if the flowers were beautiful, if the church was full of people, or if the pastor gave a good eulogy. But he could tell you that his shiftmates from Station 51 stayed close the entire time, that his children cried hard, that his mother in law avoided him, and that his partner kept him from falling to his knees. He'd watched dirt cover the wood of wife's coffin, and with each 'plunk' the dirt made hitting it, he made promises.

_I promise I'll raise the kids right._

_I promise I'll keep them safe, happy, and healthy._

_I promise I'll try to come home after every shift._

_I promise I'll take care of your mother when I have to._

_I promise I won't become a man you'd be ashamed of._

_I promise I'll love you forever._

_I promise I'll see you again._

He stayed by her graveside until someone took his arm and pulled him away gently. A memory flashed and Roy shook off the arm, determined to walk on his own. He looked beside him and saw Johnny there, staring at him with concern and determination of his own. Roy looked to the other side of him and saw the entire "A" shift of Station 51, and Dixie and Brackett and Early, the same expressions on their faces. Then Roy looked ahead and saw his two kids waiting for him with their aunt. He stopped in his tracks, a bit stunned. John moved closer, gripping his arm again.

"Roy it's okay. We're here for you, pal." A group of heads nodded in agreement with him, although Roy didn't see it.

The widower started, as if coming back to earth, looked at everyone again, finally keeping his gaze on John.

In an almost whisper, as if he'd just discovered it, he said, "I know."

At the DeSoto house, the mourners ate a little and talked a lot, catching up some but mostly reminisced about Joanne, what memories they had.

Roy was just starting to relax a bit, to feel a bit more like himself. He owed most of it to his shift mates, who stayed nearby but didn't hover, and Johnny who acted like himself, just a little toned down. That he didn't deal with Martha too much was a bonus.

But the peaceful calm he'd built cracked when Chet came up and showed him a piece of paper with his name in familiar handwriting on it.

"Hey, I found this on the counter, under a bowl," he said, holding it out.

Roy took it and opened it with shaky fingers. Johnny hit Chet in the arm, glaring.

"Ow! What?"

"Don't you have a brain in that head of yours," the youngest member of 51's scolded. He lowered his voice a bit. "It's from Joanne."

"Oh. Well, how was I supposed to know?" Kelly turned to Roy, feeling guilty. "Man, I'm sorry, if I'd known..."

"It's okay." Roy cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "It's okay," he tried again. "I was wondering where it was. It wasn't on the refrigerator like usual."

"What is it," Stoker ventured to ask. Johnny glared at him too, but didn't hit him. It was never a good idea to hit the guy who drove the engine and controlled your water in fires.

"Oh, Annie always left me notes to read when I got home, just telling me what happened while I was gone." He carefully folded the letter and put it in his breast pocket. They 'ah-ed' and Roy was called away to save Brackett from his dog, Billy.

Two weeks, John thought. Two weeks of temporary partners who asked too many questions. Even if Roy valued them as co-workers, it didn't mean they had a right to ask personal questions about him.

John put those thoughts away and forced himself to smile brightly when he heard footsteps coming through the locker room. He could at least put up a happy front for whoever he was working with today.

_Please don't let it be Craig Brice. Please don't let it be Craig Brice._

He took a breath, turned the smile up a few notches, and turned.

_Please don't let it be Craig Brice. Please don't let it be Craig Brice._

"Well, good morning, ready for-Roy!" John's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.

Roy looked at him for five seconds before continuing to his locker, saying in a friendly, conversational tone, "If you aren't careful, someone might think you wanna replace me."

Gage blinked out of his stupor and into confusion. "Huh?"

DeSoto unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged if off, looking at Johnny with a somewhat hooded expression. "100-watt smile, super chipper voice, looking excited." He carefully hung it up and pulled his blue shirt out. "Much too cheerful for a temporary partner." Roy put an emphasis on the word temporary.

Johnny chuckled and shifted so he was leaning against the locker. "Well, I figured I'd make the effort to be friendly after Bellingham complained to cap about my attitude."

Roy paused, hands on a button, staring with a look of almost panic. "He didn't mess up the squad, did he?"

Johnny smiled. "No, I made sure he kept it clean."

The senior fireman shucked out of his jeans, pulling on the navy blue uniform pants as John sat down to pull on his shoes.

"Attitude? What happened, you and Reia have a fight?" Reia Martinez was Johnny's girlfriend of three months. She was a veterinarian who practiced in downtown LA; she and Johnny were often arguing about whether it was too dangerous for her there or not.

"No, everything's fine. We're uh, we're going out tomorrow night." John started tieing his other shoe.

"If you and Reia aren't fighting, and you haven't had a life altering crisis-that I know of- then why is Bellingham complaining about you having an attitude?"

"Well, it's just that-" John cut himself off. His partner really didn't need to hear his problems and insecurities, which seemed really dumb, when he thought about it. Roy was still hurting from Joanne's death and the cops weren't telling him anything new about it. "Ah, forget it, it's not important."

"Johnny, if you tell me now it'll save both of us the headache later on."

"Roy, why won't you take a promotion?" Okay, that had come out without him meaning for it to. Roy's eyebrows went together.

"What?"

In for a penny... "It's just, you-"

"Roll call in three, gentleman," warned Cap as he stuck his head in the door.

"Right," the paramedics answered together. They looked at each other.

"Well, time to get to work!" Roy frowned at Johnny's back. 'Alright partner, you got out of it this time, but you can't avoid it forever.'

Captain Hank Stanley looked each man over, smiling widely when he came to a much missed face. "Roy," he said, sticking out his hand, "on behalf of Station 51, welcome back."

A round of "yeah, welcome back", and "here, here", went around as Roy shook Stanley's hand, slightly embarrassed.

"Look, you don't have to-"

"Oh, come on, we missed you around here Roy!" Chet slapped his back. "Maybe now that you're back Johnny-boy here will pick his jaw up off the floor."

"I haven't-!" Cap held up a hand, his clear 'Don't start now' signal effectively ending the pending argument. John shot Chet a look, Chet shot an innocent one back. Roy sighed and gave Marco and Mike a 'here we go again' expression. Something in the back of John's mind equated that look with something else and he flinched. Stanley assigned duties and off the men went.

Roy kept glancing at Johnny as they checked air bottles.

"So, what's bugging you?"

John shrugged. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that. Something's eating at you, and even the other guys can see it."

Gage stopped what he was doing, opened his mouth, closed it. He looked at Roy, opened his mouth again.

"Roy, if you could be partnered with anyone, who would it be?"

"You," Roy replied, not having to think about it. "What's this about Johnny? You thinking of switching on me?"

The past two weeks rolled through John's mind, making him shudder and give a sharp, "No!"

"Then help me out here, because I'm not seeing where this is going."

"It's just...sometimes I think that...it sounds so stupid." He looked back at the air bottle.

"Johnny." He looked back at Roy, seeing the growing worry in his blue eyes.

"Look, it's just that I think you're just putting up with me, that you think I'm just a little kid you've got to look after, and that you'd rather have someone more reliable, dependable."

Something flashed in Roy's eyes, and John cringed. So, he'd been right.

The klaxons went off. Experience and habit made them pause, listening for half a second to the tones before leaping up and putting things out of the way.

"Station 51, man trapped in a tree, 1503 Texar St. 1503 Texar St. Time out, 0918."

Both the engine and squad were running and ready by the time Stanley replied, "Station 51, KMG 365."

The sirens and air horns warned drivers to move aside as they went down the street, the squad in the lead. They made the last turn and Stanley jumped out of the engine, going to an older woman who was wringing her hands.

"Ma'am, can you tell me what's happened?"

She stuttered a bit, made some vague hand motions. "Well, I-I'm not really sure. See, I hired him to cut this tree down; he said he knew what he was doing!"

"Do you know what's wrong with him," the captain asked, keeping his voice relaxed in hopes of calming her down.

"He's an idiot, that's what's wrong with him," a irritated/amused male voice answered. Stanley turned to the man standing next to the woman, who was looking over the scene with a critical eye.

"And you are?"

"Jimmy Williams. I own 'Williams Cutting and Trimming Tree Service'."

"Oh. Uh, do you know that man up there? Does he work for you?" Behind him, the rest of the crew came up to listen.

Jimmy looked like he'd been insulted. "Hell, no, he doesn't work for me. If he did, he wouldn't have that problem in the first place."

"Well, what exactly is the problem?" Hank felt like he was going in circles.

"He was taking down that limb," began Jimmy, pointing to a fairly large oak limb hanging against the tree. "But, the rope he's using for that limb is the same rope he's tied to."

"Okay, and?"

"And what? He didn't secure his rope right before he tied it to the limb, and he can't ease the weight off the rope so he can come down, and he can't untie himself because of the weight. It's a no win situation for him."

"Cap, whatcha think?" The paramedics were worried about a possible broken back, but the engine crew was worried about limbs falling on people's heads.

"Our biggest concern for the moment is making sure that limb doesn't come down, and take him with it." He turned to Jimmy. "How long have you been cutting down trees?"

Jimmy puffed his chest out with a bit of pride. "Thirty three years."

"Is that limb in any danger of falling the rest of the way?" Williams squinted, studying the tree, the limb, the rope, the man stuck up there.

"Well, I wouldn't say it's stable by any means. I mean, that whole tree is dead, so it's easy for something to break, and if any of the limbs under that hanger breaks off, it could shift it and make things worse for the guy." Jimmy scratched his head, thinking.

"What can we do," asked Chet, looking back and forth between the tree and his cap.

Cap pulled out his handy talkie. "Lets see if we can get a ladder truck out here. LA, this is engine 51, request ladder company 6 to our location." There was a beep, then the dispatcher's voice.

"Engine 51, ladder company 6's ETA is approximately 25 minutes."

"10-4." Stanley looked back at the tree.

"He doesn't have 25 minutes," Johnny said, frustration clearly showing at their current helplessness.

"What can we do," repeated Chet.

"Could climb up there, secure him right, then cut the line attached to the limb," suggest Jimmy. The firemen all turned to look at him, then at their captain.

"Sounds good to me, what other choice do we have," agreed Stanley.

"Great, I'll get my gear!" Williams started in the direction of a truck, only to be stopped by Hank.

"Now, wait a minute, just because I said it was a good idea doesn't mean that you're going to do it."

"Alright, then let's see your men free climb up there without really knowing how to avoid bringing that man and limb down, much less the entire tree, then get the limb down properly."

"Well, you can't bring him down without possibly causing further injury, can you," put in Roy. Jimmy frowned, but then nodded.

"Okay, you've got me there. But, this way a rope will be in for you or your partner to use with belay from my crew, or yours, if you prefer," Williams quickly added, seeing the glare of disapproval Captain Stanley sent his way.

"Cap?" Everyone looked at Hank, who sighed. There were moments when being captain sucked, because you never knew exactly what would happen to your men, or civilians, when you made decisions like the one Hank was about to make. For a moment, he wished he could shove the responsibility to someone else, let them take over so he wouldn't have to worry about it for the next thirty minutes. That way, if something went wrong, he would be able to actually sleep that night without the instant replays of it.

But only for a very brief moment.

"Okay, you," he pointed to Williams, "go up there, secure that man and get that branch down. After that, you get down and out of the way, got me?"

"Got it." Williams went on his way to his truck, yelling at his men what he wanted done.

Hank turned to his crew. "We'll move everyone back a safe distance, since that thing isn't going to be lowered gently. As soon as he's done and on the ground, one of the medics will go up and they'll take it from there. Now, we'll be standing under that thing a lot, so I want everyone to keep their helmets on and watch out." The men nodded. Hank pressed the button on the HT again. "LA, engine 51, cancel ladder company response."

"Engine 51." Jimmy walked back towards them, pulling at straps and adjusting the saddle around his waist. Johnny looked him over with a kind of fascination.

"What in the world is that?"

"My saddle," replied Jim with a grin.

"You ride horses too?" Roy shared a look with Jim, both of them rolling their eyes.

"Naw, that's just what you call it because you can actually sit in a tree with it while you hang there. Pretty comfy, actually."

"You ready to go," interrupted Hank. Interesting as the conversation was, he was more than ready to get the rescue under way and finished.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm ready. Just make sure everyone's clear."

Stanley nodded and watched with everyone else as Jimmy made his way to the tree and up it. The man used his upper body strength to pull himself up while at the same time used the 'spikes' on his feet to spike into the tree and push up. He looked like a squirrel or monkey shimmying up the tree, using branches and whatever other holds he had. He paused every now and again, to catch his breath, they thought, but it wasn't long before he was back at it and eventually to the injured man. He pulled the lanyard attatched to his saddle around the trunk of the tree, so he was a bit more secure, then took the rope tied to the saddle and pulled it up until he had a good bit of it in his hands.

"Headache," he hollered. When the 'clear' response came, he reared his arm holding the rope back and then let it fly over a crotch two branches made, and let it fall. Then he let it down some more, until one of his men could grab it and pull it so it could be tied at the bottome of the tree. Jimmy carefully secured the injured man properly to the tree, then reached around. This was the tricky part, the part that could turn deadly real fast. He made one last call to check that everyone was out of the way, got his confirmation, and began to hand saw through the rope holding the branch up.

It seemed to take forever. Everyone watching waited almost anxiously for the last cut to be made. When it was, the dead piece of wood crashed through the remaining branches, breaking some completely off with it as it fell. Fortunately, it didn't get hung up and hit the ground, bounced, then lay still. A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd.

"Alright Johnny, you're up." Roy hated that Johnny was the one to go up; he usually did, because if something happened, he couldn't help right away. But, Johnny was the logical choice, because of his lanky build and quickness. Together, they made sure John's harness was secure, that his helmet was tight on his chin.

At the base of the tree, Williams' men had untied the rope and were ready to pull Johnny up.

"Maybe you should let the firemen do that," suggested Johnny, thinking to keep them from getting hurt.

Unfortunately, the men looked insulted.

"Hey, we do this for a living, man."

"Yeah, we'll make sure you get up there alright. In fact, you'll hardly have to do any work at all." Roy and John made quick eye contact. Shaking his head, John grabbed his end of the rope, eyeing the D-ring tied to it and raised an eyebrow to the men.

"Tie in snap," one of them explained. "You clip it to the ring on your saddle." John shrugged and clipped it as instructed. After all, they did this for a living and he wasn't about to reject any advice they might have.

Before he really knew it, he was half way up the tree and still going. Well, they'd been right, he didn't have to do much at all, just navigate himself. He grinned and made a mental note to suggest to the chief about using this particular bit for rescues.

Examining the patient when he got to him, Gage was happy to discover that by some stroke of luck or some miracle that the man's back wasn't broken and neither was his neck. That didn't mean the possibility of some trauma didn't exist, so he called down for a C-collar, stokes, and that a backboard should be ready. It was tricky to get the stokes and it's ropes set up, having to pause every now and again when the tree groaned and cracked a bit. But, before long he had the patient loaded in the stokes and was lowering him down, then John followed. As quick as possible, he detached himself from the rope and got away from the tree.

Roy was already taking vitals, the connection with Rampart already established. The air hissed from the BP cuff, and Roy looked at John, stethascope hanging around his neck.

"I already told Rampart what was going on, they're just waiting for vitals."

Johnny stepped over the drug box and crouched next to the bio-phone. "Okay, you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Rampart, this is Squad 51, are you ready for vitals?"

"Go ahead, 51," Joe Early's voice responded over the receiver. John took the piece of paper Roy handed him.

"Rampart, vitals are, BP is 122 over 80, pulse is 80, respiration is 21. Uh, there's no indication that his back or neck is broken, but there is tenderness in the abdomen, with possible fractures in the left arm and leg."

Early finished writing down the vitals, took off his glasses. "51, start an Ringer's IV, if there's no head trauma, give 10 mg MS, intravenously. Splint the arm and leg, and transport as soon as possible."

"10-4 Rampart." Johnny put the bio-phone away for the moment, briefly looked up at Roy as his partner worked a vein in the right arm and inserted the needle, getting the port ready. While he was doing that, John got the MS ready. As soon as the IV was in, he wiped the port, gave the injection, and put on the splints. When the patient was ready, they put him, the drug box, bio-phone, and John in the ambulance with him. Roy slapped the doors to the ambulance, getting in the squad to follow them to the hospital.

**Black-Angel-001: okay, so that's my first medical scene. if there's anything that can be corrected let me know via review or email. i'd appreciate it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own, everyone has a private world, where they can be alone. Are you calling me, are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out for me, and I'm reaching out for you_." -intro to Eminem _'Beautiful'_

Roy checked over the supply form, looking for any mistakes; Dixie was relaxed but very exact in her work. Satisfied with it, he handed it over to her to sign while he arranged the supplies in the box. They both knew he was just killing time waiting for Johnny to get through in the exam room with the patient, and he was just a tad too jittery for a cup of coffee. Before long he heard the familiar footsteps of his partner and turned to find out what the prognosis was on their patient but the words died on his lips when he saw the large purple bruise starting to form on his friend's forehead.

"What happened to you?" He examined it with a critical eye, but determined it was just a bruise and nothing more serious than that.

"Ah, you know the morphine knocked the patient out a bit?" Roy nodded. "Well, he came to and started flailing, you know, thinking he was falling from the tree, and uh..." he trailed off, waving his hand around his head.

Roy smiled a bit. "What the doc say about it?"

"About what?" John put his hand on the counter and leaned against it.

"Your head."

"Oh. Well, uh," he cleared his throat, "he said it was okay, nothing serious. Just a bruise."

"Uh-huh." Roy reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a little notebook, normally used to write addresses, vitals, and patient information down, and flipped the pages to near the back, then pulled out his pen. He made a little mark and looked like he was counting. John got a cold feeling in his gut when Roy's smile got a bit bigger and he looked up with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "That's 17, partner. Three more to go, then you have to buy me dinner."

"Oh, come on, that one can't count!" Johnny straightened up and frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because...because it didn't happen at the scene it happened in the ambulance, that's why!" He felt fairly confidant in his reasoning but that was quickly fading under the firm shake of Roy's head.

"No, sorry. Department policy says that a patient is under paramedic care until they get into an exam room. So, from the scene, to the ambulance, to until you walk through the doors," DeSoto gestured to the ER double doors, "any injury you get counts."

"Wait a minute, what are you talking about," asked Dixe, looking between the pair with confusion.

"See Dix, I came up with this kind of bet, that whoever between us has twenty injuries by the end of the month will buy the other dinner or something," Johnny explained, somewhat sheepishly.

Dixie looked a bit shocked. "Johnny, with your track record? What were you thinking?" She turned a somewhat angry gaze to Roy. "And what were you thinking, letting him make a game out of injuries?"

"Now, there are rules and requirements for this," defended Roy. "It can be minor stuff, like cuts and bruises. Broken bones don't count, but concussions do, if they aren't severe. And if it's gotten during a run, and a doctor looks at it."

"I'm asking you again Johnny: what were you thinking?"

"I had a good streak going, for a while. Not even a papercut!"

"Then he had to go and come up with this," put in Roy.

"Yeah, and he hardly ever gets hurt, so we decided to take any minor stuff the other guys get and add it to his, to kind of balance it out a little."

Dixie looked back and forth at them, torn between laughing and slapping them upside the head. In the end, she just sighed and went back to work. "Bye, guys."

Roy laughed, "Bye Dix." They started down the hall, John carrying the supplies and Roy carrying the radio. "Oh, meant to ask you, how's the guy we brought in?"

John turned back a bit, as if he could see the patient. "Doc Early thinks he'll be okay, just a bit of internal bleeding and some fractures, nothing really serious. Guy was really lucky."

"Yeah, I'll say." They got to the squad, Johnny put them as available, and Roy noticed the almost worried/annoyed side glances his partner was giving him. Roy gave Johnny until they were a good ways down the road to spill his guts, as it were, before he brought it up. "What's bugging you now?" They hadn't finished their conversation from the station, in Roy's mind, and he intended to, when Johnny was done worrying his new bone down.

Fortunately, Johnny was a bit more forthcoming with this topic. "Why do we keep that score up?"

Roy took his eyes off the road for a minute to see if John was serious. He was. "I didn't think it bothered you." He shrugged. "You came up with it after all."

"Yeah, but so far I've been buying every time! And anyway, why do you get a kick out of it?"

"Get a kick out of it? I do not get a kick out of you getting hurt, even if it's just a bruise." DeSoto was hard pressed to keep his eyes on the road.

"Then why do you still keep track?" John turned a little so he was looking more at Roy, an advantage to being the passenger.

Roy wished he could have that advantage. "Johnny, if it bothers you all you've gotta do is say so and we'll stop, doesn't bother me one way or the other."

"Of course it doesn't bother you, you aren't the one getting bumped around!"

"Okay, okay. We won't keep track anymore." John eyed Roy a bit apprehensively. "I'm serious." Roy felt like he was reasoning with Chris or Jenny at the moment.

"You're thinking I'm acting like a kid again, aren't you?" Dread and suspicion lined Gage's voice, making DeSoto glance at him sharply.

"Honestly? Yes, there are times where I think you act like a kid. Yes, there are times when I get aggrivated and fed up with some of the stuff you do." John shrank back in his seat a bit, shocked. Roy was fed up with him? "But that doesn't mean it's all the time, or everyday. More like once in a blue moon."

"But you do want a more dependable partner, don't you?" They were pulling into the station now, and Roy waited until the squad was parked before turning in his seat to face Johnny. The junior member of their team looked sad, angry, hurt, and slightly confused. Roy opened his mouth but John cut him off before he could say anything. "Don't try to deny it, Roy, I saw that look in your eyes earlier. The minute you get the chance you'll get another partner, someone you won't have to babysit and look out for, who won't put you in danger when you don't need to be, and-"

"Will you shut up," Roy almost shouted. John jumped. Roy leaned forward, looking intent. "Johnny, if I thought that I wanted a more dependable partner, I would've switched years ago! I had the chance, I could've done it and gone to a different station, worked with someone else. But I'm sitting here, aren't I? Were did you get the idea that I can't depend on you, or that I have to babysit you? You know it never seemed like I had to help you get through a rescue? You were a natural going in, ready to do what you had to. It really wasn't too long before I let you handle the patient, starting the IV, administering the medications. I don't call you junior much anymore because you're equal to me now in skill and ability."

"You mean we weren't equals before?" Roy felt like banging his head on the steering wheel. Of all the things he could have picked to focus on, why did it have to be that?

"Not in that regard, Johnny. I've been doing the military version of this since I was 19, in situations a lot more hazardous than what we have now. I already knew how to start an IV, how to splint broken arms, how to treat gunshot patients. When I went through the paramedic training program, it was to re-learn what I already knew and more, and how to do it without bullets flying at you and bombs going off all around you all the time. When you went through it, you just knew the basic first aid you got at the academy. Calling you junior was a way of reminding myself of where you were then, I guess." Roy ran a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated. "I can't explain it well, and I guess I'm not, but trust me when I tell you I do trust you to have my back on dangerous rescues, that I've got yours, that I know you're dependable, reliable, and trust you to take care of the patients by yourself if you have to."

John blinked and digested all that, his mind in a bit of a whirl. So, Roy trusted him, depended on him? He didn't think of him as a rookie, but someone equal to him? That one was still a tough pill to swallow for Johnny, but he could kind of understand it, he supposed. His mind replayed the conversation, and he frowned deeply, still thinking hard. "Really?"

Roy nodded, trying to convince him with the sincerity in his eyes. "Really. You're a good fireman, a good paramedic, and a good man. If you weren't, do you think I'd let you hang around my kids so much?"

"I guess that's true." Gage looked out the windshield, then back at DeSoto.

"So, everything's okay now? Nothing else we need to have a heart to heart about?"

Johnny considered it, but only briefly. He shook his head and grinned. "Nope, I think we're done." Roy opened his door.

"Good, because I don't think I can handle anymore conversations like this with you anytime soon." John opened his door.

"I don't think I could handle anymore conversations like this anytime soon either." They closed their doors at the same time. Coming around the back of the squad and meeting Roy at the door of the day room, John paused long enough to ask, "But you still think I act like a kid, don't you?"

Roy rolled his eyes and walked through the door. "Come on junior, let's get something to eat."

He'd been back to work for eight weeks, and in that time had worked all his scheduled shifts, plus whatever overtime he could get. When he wasn't doing overtime at work, he was doing chores at the house, cutting the grass or fixing a pipe, and when he wasn't doing that, he was taking care of the kids, helping them with school work. There were phone calls from family, what little he had left, calls from Joanne's family, what little knew him, and the occasional visit from Stacey. She came by sometimes to watch the kids while he taking care of some major chores, or when he was working an especially long shift. He hadn't seen Martha since the funeral, and Roy felt guilty about not feeling guilty that he hadn't stayed in touch with the woman. Going up the porch stairs after another overtime shift with 49's, Roy paused at the yelling coming from inside. He sighed wearily, taking the moment to lean his forehead against the door. He was exhausted, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was the kids arguing. They'd been good about it, true enough, as they hardly ever argued anymore (when he was around anyway) and if they did, kept it to a quiet minimum. He wasn't sure why they didn't argue as much, but he did know it was starting to grate on them. He opened the door and the yelling stopped.

"I'm home," he croaked and winced. Maybe he ate more smoke than he'd realized at that fire?

"Welcome home, Daddy," Jenny said, running to him to give him a big hug and kiss. He took both and returned the sentiment, holding her just a bit longer than he used to.

"Hi, Dad." Chris didn't run to him, but he did get a hug and kiss from him too. Roy wondered how long it would be before his son would decide it just wasn't cool to hug his dad anymore.

"Hey, everything okay?" The children looked at each other, almost guiltily.

"Yes, sir, everything's alright," answered Chris, even as he shot his sister a 'It's all your fault' look that Roy didn't miss.

"Yep, just fine, Daddy," Jenny said too, while she answered Chris's look with a 'Is not, it's all yours' look.

Roy lead his kids to the living room, sitting on the couch so he was more at their eye level without bending down. God, he was so sore. His eyes felt gritty, wether from the smoke and soot of the fire today or from lack of sleep he wasn't sure anymore.

"I get the feeling that it isn't." Again they exchanged guilty looks. "You know, it's okay to argue every now and again."

"But then you have to get involved and you're already tired from work and everything else, you don't need that too." Chris stopped and bit his bottom lip nervously. Apparently that wasn't supposed to come out.

"I'm supposed to get involved, I'm your dad. It worries me more when you don't argue, because then I start to get Chet Kelly theories about aliens and abductions."

Jenny giggled. "That's silly, Daddy."

"So is two siblings not fighting." He held up a hand to halt their protests. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate the consideration; I do. It's just that, not arguing at all? Ever? There's just no way you can do that without going crazy, and when you do fight, it'll be huge and probably over nothing but it will go on forever, and you won't get over it easily." He paused, frowning. Was he rambling? "Do you get what I'm saying?" They nodded. "Good. Now, and I can't believe I'm about to say this, I give you permission to fight every now and then. That does not mean all out drag out fist fights, those still aren't allowed, but yelling in at least one fight is okay, gets things out of your system." Roy thought of one run they'd had, a woman screaming at a construction sight, and smiled. Well, the woman had been right after all. Before he knew it, he was laying on the couch, his eyes were closing, and he was fast asleep.

Chris DeSoto was worried. His dad was working alot, more than he had before, and every time he came home he didn't rest a bit he just did more work. He and Jenny had tried not to fight so his dad wouldn't be stressed out over that, but their lack of fighting had caused him to stress and worry. Now his dad had fallen asleep right in the middle of talking to them, something he had never done before that Chris could remember.

Jenny DeSoto was worried too. "Is Daddy okay?" She turned her big blue eyes to her older brother, looking for reassurance.

'Yeah, he's just tired. C'mon, let's let him sleep for a while." They went to the kitchen to finish their homework, but neither of them could concentrate on it. When dinner time came, their father was still asleep and both kids didn't really want to wake him up. But they couldn't work the stove, and didn't want to try, so they decided Chris would make peanut butter and bannana sandwiches, since that was the only thing they could agree on. After they ate, they went upstairs, changed for bed, debated whether to wake their dad up so he could go to sleep in his room, but in the end let him stay the rest of the night on the couch.

When Roy woke up the next morning, he figured there had to be a reason why he was on the couch, still wearing the clothes he'd come home in last night. His throat was scratchy, his eyes still burned from exhaustion, and he decided that since he was off, he would go back to sleep.

'Maybe I should get up and go to my bed,' he thought even as he rolled over and closed his eyes.

"He's still sleeping." Chris rolled his eyes and bit back the 'duh' at the obvious statement. It was a little after ten in the morning, and even though it wasn't unusual for their dad to sleep in on his days off, it was unusual that he hadn't woken up at all since they'd been up.

"Maybe we should call someone, he might be sick." Chris rolled his eyes again.

"If he was sick he wouldn't go to work."

"Not before, but he might now." Christopher had to agree to that. There was no telling if their dad would work while he was sick or not now and days. He'd worked when he was injured, but then the doctors and let him and they wouldn't have if they didn't think he could.

"Should we call Uncle Johnny?"

"No, he's working today."

"Oh. Should we call Aunt Stacey?"

"I think we'll wait until we have no choice."

"Why?"

"Because she could tell Gram, and then..." He didn't have to finish, they both knew exactly what would happen after that.

"Well, then, who?" Jennifer put her hands on her hips, her head tilted so her dark brown hair spilled over her small shoulder. The pose was very much like one their mother had used for them, dad, and Uncle Johnny, many times.

Chris thought it over, and recalled a conversation he'd had with his dad.

"Captain Stanley." Jenny frowned. Her brother seemed confidant, but...

"Why him?"

"Why not him? Dad always said that you could go to your captain if you needed help."

Now Jenny rolled her eyes. "Chris, we're not firemen."

"No, but dad is. Firemen watch out for each other, and their families." She considered it, and it did make sense, but...

"Is he working?"

"I don't think so."

"And if he is?"

"We'll call one of the other guys from 51's-dad has all their numbers in his address book." Jenny crossed her arms and tapped her finger on her elbow. Well, it was a good idea, and she really didn't want to deal with Gram, so....

She nodded. Chris grinned and went to the study, getting the address book. Since there was a phone in there he didn't have to worry about the conversation waking up his dad. The phone rang a few times.

"Hello, Stanley residence," a deep male voice answered.

"Hello, Captain Stanley?" Suddenly, Chris was nervous. This was a captain, and not just any captain, his dad's captain. What if he was just bothering the man over something that wasn't very serious anyway?

"Yes, this is he."

"Oh, uh, hi, sir, um, this is Chris DeSoto. Y'know, Roy DeSoto's son." Jenny stuck out her tongue, a clear disapproval of his tongue tiedness. He shot her an annoyed look.

"Oh, hey Chris. Everything alright?" Hank couldn't think of a reason for Roy's son to be calling him at home on their off days, but he didn't think it was a good one, he'd bet his captain's bars on it.

"I'm not sure, sir. I think something's wrong with my dad."

Hank frowned and sat up a little straighter in his chair. His wife, Emily, raised her eyebrows in concern. He shook his head. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Chris took a deep breath. Great, now he would sound like a little kid with an overactive imagination and Captain Stanley would get to his dad about it and his dad would get annoyed and...

"Chris? What's wrong?" Oops, he'd been quiet a little too long.

"Well, dad came home last night and fell asleep practically mid-sentence when he was talkin' to me an' Jenny, and he didn't wake up, didn't even move, and he was still on the couch this morning and I don't think he's been awake since, and me an' Jen think he might be sick but we aren't sure."

Hank took a minute to unjumble the long stream of word's Roy's son had just told him. "Want me to come over, just to check on things?" Emily's eyebrows went higher, her eyes wider. He heard the boy sigh in what could have been relief.

"Yes, sir, please. I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you, and if you're busy you don't have to."

"No, that's fine. You can call me anytime you've got a problem." He meant it. He believed his 'open door policy' extended not only to his men but their families as well.

"Thank you, Captain Stanley."

"No problem, I'll be there in fifteen minutes." They said their goodbyes and hung up. Hank started pulling his shoes on.

"Hank, who was that? What's wrong?"

"That was Roy DeSoto's son, said his dad fell asleep and hadn't woken up since. I think it's just him catching up on sleep, nothing serious." Or he prayed that it was, anyway. He knew Roy had been working a lot lately, more than ever before, but surely he was getting the proper rest at home, right?

"Is there anything I can do?" Hank smiled and kissed her. She was always ready to help him with his crew and their loved ones, and not just because she was a captain's wife-it was in her nature.

"Don't know yet. I'll let you know though, if there is."

The kids were quick to open the door for Hank when he got there. The father in him made him look the children over, although he knew there wouldn't be anything really wrong with them. Aside from worry about their dad, they were fine. Satisfied with that, Hank went to the couch, gently shaking Roy's shoulder.

"Roy? Hey, wake up pal." Roy shifted and frowned, eyelids opening a bit. Hank smiled a little. "Hey. You feel alright?"

"Tired," Roy rasped out.

"Sound like it." Hank shifted his hand from Roy's shoulder to his forehead. He didn't feel hot. He looked at the kids, who were watching them intently, tracking his every move. Now that he was actually in the situation, Stanley wasn't sure about what he was supposed to do exactly.

Roy closed his eyes again and coughed. Hank straightened.

"I don't think he's sick, just really tired. He's been pulling a lot of shifts lately." He looked at the kids. "The cough and raspy voice is probably from a fire; there was a pretty bad one last night. If it gets worse or doesn't go away soon, then I'd really worry." They nodded, looking sheepish and a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry Captain Stanley, for making you come down here for no real good reason," Chris said, staring at his feet.

"No need to apologize, Chris, I'm glad you called me. You couldn't be sure it was nothing. Heck, I can't be sure myself." Hank looked at Roy, then back at the kids. "Remember, if the cough doesn't go away by the time he's got to go back to work, call me or Johnny, or even the fire department for an ambulance so he'll get treated, stubborn as he is. If you need anything, you call me. Don't care what time it is, got it?"

They nodded again, said goodbye, and went about their day, careful to keep a close watch on their dad.

John was worried. Cap had told him about his house call to the DeSoto residence, and that Chris had called to tell him that the cough was better, and that the next day Roy'd been up and about, even if it was without much energy.

When Roy came in the locker room and began to change, Johnny studied him intently, with a paramedic's eye. Moving a bit slower than normal, kind of stiff. Bags under the eyes, exhaustion making the blue orbs dull. Suddenly, Roy looked older than he should have and the worry Johnny felt went up a few notches.

"Roy, are you alright?"

"Fine, fine, just a little tired is all."

"Yeah, I heard you slept the day away Saturday." Roy paused for half a heartbeat in his motions. Johnny went on. "Why're you taking so many shifts?"

Roy shrugged and winced. "You know."

"No, I don't know."

"I've got to, that's all there is to it." Roy really didn't want to talk about it.

Johnny pushed a bit more. "At the rate you're going, it won't really matter in a few days why you've got to. C'mon, Roy, what's so important that you're working yourself into an early grave?"

The locker door slammed shut. "You really want to know? First, there's the hospital bills that my health insurance won't cover, then there's the funeral costs, then there's the death taxes, the mortgage is due, it's too late to take Jenny and Chris out of dance and football, so I've got to pay for that, the car payment on the station wagon, the utility bills, supplies for whatever school project the kids have, gas for the car, groceries. Shall I go on?"

"I thought you had all that money in the bank, you know-"

"It was just enough to cover some of the cost for Joanne's funeral, the hospital bills, and a little bit of the taxes. Not near enough for it all." Roy sank down on the bench and put a hand to his forehead. "With the mortgage, one late payment in enough of a reason for the bank to harass us about foreclosure."

"They wouldn't!" The look in his partner's eyes said they would.

"There's just too much to pay for and not enough money to do it with. I could maybe manage the everyday things, like the electric and water bill and stuff, but the rest of it...it's just for a little while, I just have to get them off my back for a while."

John wasn't too sure what to do. He could offer to loan Roy some money to help pay for everything, but then the older man would just see it as charity and one more thing he'd have to pay for. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Roy sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Sorry, don't mean to dump this on you."

"Hey, that's what partners are for," said Johnny with a weak smile. He lost it and looked down at his feet. "Uh, you could take the engineer's exam again, take the promotion." The words were barely out of his mouth before Roy was shaking his head.

"I could, but I won't. It's so stupid, because the money's so good, but I just can't leave the paramedics, especially now." He caught Johnny's curious glance and fiddled with his fireman's badge. "I can't explain it, but I really need to stay in the program now more than ever right now." Roy stood up and finished getting dressed, then started to head out the door.

"Hey, Roy." John looked up at his best friend, one of the few he counted on completely. "If you need anything, a cup of sugar or just someone to talk to..."

Roy smiled. "I know. Thanks."

"Like I said, that's what partners are for."

"That's what family is for." They went out to the bay for roll call.

**Black-Angel-001: credit for the last line goes to emom, a great writer in my opinion. thanks for your patience! please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_My best friend gave me the best advice: he said each day is a gift and not a given right...leave your fears behind, and try to take the path less travelled by; that first step you take is the longest stride."_--Nickleback, _'If Today was Your Last Day'_

Detective Adam Barton looked the paper in his hands over again for what was the hundredth time, sighed in disgust, and tossed it down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead with his fingers and frowning. At least two and a half months since the hit and run case of Mrs. Joanne DeSoto had opened, and they were at a dead end. All the information from witnesses was useless, as they couldn't give very helpful information, just that it was a dark blue car. They had found a car that could have been the vehicle, but the paint didn't match what was recovered from the woman's clothes and body. They'd run out of body shops in the area, out of suspects, and out of leads.

Barton hated when a case went cold, it was a matter of professional pride for him, but he especially hated it when it involved a family as good as the DeSoto's seemed to be. A cup of coffee was set before him and he took a sip, hoping that it would help his headache.

"We gotta call it Adam." He looked up at his partner, sitting at his own desk directly across from him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Barton took another sip. He really didn't want to, and the younger man knew it.

"Captain's getting at us about it, wondering why we're still using time and resources when we haven't had anything new in weeks." At the scowl on his partner's face, Detective Todd Burnes wisely shut his mouth and drank his coffee.

Adam knew it all, had in fact heard it all from the Captain just yesterday. They had other cases, ones with leads and an ending in sight. He sighed again and ran a hand through his thinning dark brown hair. It just didn't sit right with him, never did.

"You know," Todd ventured, feeling somewhat safe about speaking. "You've been on the force for about ten years now. Don't you think you should be used to getting cold cases by now?"

In one gulp, Adam drained his coffee cup and slammed it down on the desk. "Todd, if you ever get used to getting a cold case then you aren't doing your job right." He picked up the phone and dialed a number, feeling that dread get a little bigger.

"Come on, come on! Run, you sorry-"

"Chet," warned Roy, with a meaningful glance.

"Oh, yeah, sorry Roy." Chet smiled sheepishly, or Roy thought he did. It was hard to tell with that mustache. Chet was looking back at the television screen, shouting excitedly. Roy rolled his eyes. On the set, the ref blew a whistle and yellow flags were thrown on the field.

"What?!" Chet and Mike shouted at the same time, Chet jumping to his feet. The "A" shift crew were all at Roy's house to watch USC* play FSU*. Hank had brought his wife and his own two kids, who were alternating between watching the game and playing with Jenny, and Johnny had brought his girlfriend, Reia.

"There's no way that was a holding foul, man, no way!" Chet flopped back onto the sofa.

Nobody commented on his comment, but instead watched the next play. The ball was hiked, USC's quarterback threw it to the running back at the 30 yard line, who did his job and started running.

"Drop it," called Jenny, taking a moment from her play to lean against the arm of the sofa, where Johnny was sitting.

"He dropped it! Number 23 has dropped the ball at the 25 yard line!"

"Jenny," Chet, Mike, Marco, and Hank all shouted. The little girl looked as amazed as they were.

"What, it was a joke!" Before they could say anything else, she ran off to continue her game.

"Reia, didn't you go to USC," asked Marco. The game had gone to commercial so everyone felt it safe to eat a few chips and take a sip from their drinks.

"Yes, I did."

"Then why aren't you cheering them on, the more the better." Chet waved his hands at the television, almost spilling his soda.

"Just because I went there, doesn't mean I liked it," she replied, brushing some of her long bangs out of her eyes. She was a beautiful young woman, with black hair and brown eyes, and her voice was quiet and soothing. When she was calm.

"Oh, you mean you're cheering for FSU because their mascot is the Seminoles, and since you're dating Johnny here, you've gotta be loyal, huh?" Chet nudged Mike, chuckling.

"Chet, just because I'm from the Seminole tribe* doesn't mean that Reia has to root for Florida State." John leaned back and put an arm around Reia, smiling. Reia smiled back at him.

"Exactly. Besides, FSU is a much better team than Southern California." Her comment was timed perfectly. Before anyone could object to that statement the game came back on and all attention was focused on it.

"USC's 59 running the ball....He's down! FSU's 48, 12, and 10 got him all at once. There's a flag. Yeah, called on 12, for holding the face mask. USC gains 5 yards, and that puts them near the end zone."

Reia jumped to her feet, speaking rapid fire Spanish angrily. Marco choked on his drink, his eyes growing wide at what she was saying. Getting control of himself, he said something to her, also in Spanish. Her face grew red, and she sat down, looking decidedly embarrassed. Johnny looked from her to Marco.

"What was all that?" Reia became redder.

"You don't want to know," assured Marco. Roy came in from the backyard, carrying a plate of grilled hamburgers and hot dogs.

"Alright, burgers and hot dogs are done. Get 'em if you want 'em." He picked up the ringing phone. "Hello? What?" He put a finger against his other ear, trying to hear. He guessed USC had made a touchdown because Chet was hollering excitedly. "I'm sorry, who is this again?"

"Mr. DeSoto, it's Detective Barton." What in the world was going on over at that place? It sounded like a wild party.

"Oh, hold on, let me get to the other phone. Hey Chris, hang up when I get on the other phone, huh?" Chris took the phone distractedly, his attention more on the game than what he was doing. When he heard his dad's voice he hung up and ran back to the couch, jumping up and down and cheering when USC's linemen made the tackle.

Roy looked at the wall of his study as if he could see through it to the living room on the other side. "Sorry about that, the guys are over here watching the game."

Barton chuckled. "That's alright. Who's winning?" Todd frowned and gave him a cross-eyed look, which he shooed away. He knew he was stalling, but who could blame him?

"California, I think. I'm not really sure, I've been grilling. So, what can I do for you, detective?" He heard the other man take a deep breath and sigh.

"Mr. DeSoto, I'm calling because I had to tell you that your wife's hit and run is being put with the cold case files."

Roy took a minute to try to absorb that, to figure out what it meant. "What?"

"We've got nothing. No leads, no suspects. We haven't found anything that would take us to the guy driving that car, and after this long we probably won't." It was easy to hear the frustration in the detective's voice. "I'm really sorry, Mr. DeSoto."

"So, you're just giving up?" It was like that day all over again, when Joanne died. He'd been completely confidant that the police would find the man who'd done it, he'd be punished, and then Roy could maybe start to get past it. But, here they were, admitting to him that there was nothing more they could do, that could be done.

"I didn't say that," Barton began. Roy didn't let him finish.

"You pretty much did, detective. What, so now this guy just stays loose and free, without ever getting what he deserves while my kids grow up without their mother? Is that what you're telling me?"

The silence was answer enough.

"Thank you, Detective Barton," he gritted out. He slammed the phone down, put his elbows on the desk, and put his face in his hands, breathing roughly.

Adam looked at the phone for a moment before replacing it in it's cradle. He looked up at Todd, whose brown eyes were full of sympathy.

"How'd he take it?"

Adam stood and snatched his jacket up. "About as well as a guy getting a tooth pulled without painkillers." He strode off, needing a cigarette and a drink, but having to settle for just the cigarette and coffee.

Roy had been gone too long, mused Johnny. The game was almost finished, and the food was almost gone. Just when he was about to get up and make sure he was okay, Roy walked through the living room and went to the food, grabbing something for himself. John took note of the strain around his mouth and eyes, and his paleness. No, his partner wasn't okay. Roy caught his gaze and shook his head in response to the raised eyebrow.

"Hey, Roy, you missed the first half of a great game," said Chet, oblivious as usual. "Come on and watch it man, it'll relax you a bit." Okay, maybe not so much as usual, smirked Johnny.

"I don't think watching a football game is going to relax me," Roy said, shaking his head before taking a bite out of his hot dog. He wasn't hungry, but he had to eat so he did, although he was hard pressed to keep it down.

"Why not, I can't think of a better way to relax." Chet looked around to see if he was getting any agreement from the other guys.

"Yeah, that's why you're jumping up and down and hollering over every play," chuckled John.

"At least I'm getting into it. You've done nothing but sit on that couch and cuddle with Reia since it started. Why not a little loyalty, for at least one side?"

Roy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, memories flooding him of when he and Joanne did the exact same thing. He took another bite of his hot dog, forcing it down with a swallow of soda. They were still talking about football loyalty when the commercial ended and the game came out of halftime. Roy stood behind the couch, watching the plays without much real interest. He cheered when FSU made a touchdown, just to annoy Chet, laughed with John when a coach got hit with his own guys, and gloated a bit when FSU beat USC 48 to 27.

Work went the same as always. Get in, go on a run, go to Rampart, go on another run, go to Rampart, go back to the station, try to grab a bite to eat, get interrupted by a run. The routine which was normally soothing for Roy was just an annoyance now, and his sour mood was noticeable to everyone. They avoided him like the plague and spoke to him only when they had to. Johnny hadn't been able to pry out what was wrong and in the end had decided it was better to wait until his partner wasn't so agitated and edgy. John actually hoped they'd get called out for something big, thinking that maybe the activity and focus would help center Roy and work off some energy so he wouldn't growl like a bear when you got within ten feet of him.

Johnny wasn't sure if it was a good thing his hopes were answered or not.

"Station 51, Engine 95, Engine 105, Truck 107, Battalion 14. Structure fire, 1105 South Davis, cross street Airport Blvd. Time out, 1425."

The structure fire was a fairly small brick apartment complex, with limited space in the front. When the small parking lot space had been taken up by the first engines there, the street filled up just as quick. People were running around in a jumble of confusion, trying to find friends and family and trying to help the firefighters. Flames were starting to flicker out of windows and smoke was crawling out of the building and into the chilly afternoon air. Even though the building was small, there were alot of rooms, and not many men could be spared from the hoses to search for victims.

Johnny and Roy were some of the ones searching the building, floor by floor, room by room. The hot smoke was thick in the hallways, reducing visibility to practically nothing, their movements relying more on their sense of touch and sound, although that was jumbled with the rumbling of the building and the sound of water. Roy and John were working the second floor, getting ready to start on the third. Early reports said the fifth floor was pretty much engulfed and the fourth floor was soon to follow. The second floor hadn't been breached by the fire yet, but the third was starting to get an eery yellow orange glow to it.

"You take this end, I'll start down there," shouted Roy, so he could be heard above the hissing of his oxygen tank. Johnny gave an exagerated nod and went to work, methodically checking apatment rooms and marking them with tape while Roy made his way to the end of the corridor.

Johnny was on his sixth room when there was a loud rumbling above his head. Instinct made him duck and cover, training made him listen carefully and look around. The ceiling above him was still intact, so was the floor under him. He didn't have the HT, so he didn't know what had happened, but he knew it wasn't good. Finishing his search and determining no one was in there other than himself, Gage closed the door behind him, marked the door with a piece of tape, and looked as far as he was able down the hall. Nothing but smoke. Thinking quickly he made the decision to keep searching rooms, at least until he heard from Roy or one of the others it was time to head out.

Roy made one last sweep of the apartment before marking it. From what he'd heard on the HT, some of the fifth floor had gone, too damaged from the fire and water. The captains were calling for their men to hurry as much as they could, believing that the fourth floor wouldn't last much longer itself.

He was inclined to agree, listening to the groans and strains of the old building. There was another rumble, this time closer and Roy curled himself into a small ball in a corner as bits of debris fell from the ceiling. The dust settled, as did the rumbling, and Roy stood, some plaster falling off his shoulders and helmet.

"HT 95 to Engine 95, Cap, more of the fifth floor is gone, and I think some of the fourth is gonna go too," a breathless, wheezing voice shouted from his HT.

"Everyone on the fifth and fourth floor get out, now. Third floor, finish up now and get out; this whole thing's gonna go here soon," the battalion chief commanded.

That was their cue, exit, stage right. Roy stepped over parts of the ceiling that littered the floor and went down the hallway, calling for his partner. A head poked out through a door, followed by an upper-torso.

"Johnny, chief made the call to get out. You finished in there?" There was more heat in the hall now, as the fire ran through the building.

"Almost," he shouted in reply. Roy followed him into the apartment, hoping that another set of eyes would get them out faster. He determined it was clear and shouted to Johnny that it was time to go. He heard a reply, and figured the other paramedic was following behind him. The HT in his hand went off.

"Engine 51 to HT 51, where are you," Stanley's agitated voice came through. The captain had figured those two would be out already, but he hadn't seen them so far.

Roy took off his mask so he could be heard a bit clearer. "We're heading out no-Shit!"

Stanley held the HT away from him in shock. "What the hell is THAT supposed to mean, DeSoto?!"

The fireman took one last look behind him, to double check that he wasn't wrong, and cursed again, this time not into the handie talkie. Johnny wasn't behind him. "We're on our way out, Cap," he said as he doubled back, holding his mask over his face for a moment. The smoke was making his eyes water and his lungs burn.

"Where are you, DeSoto," repeated Stanley, gritting his teeth. Usually when Roy said that, they came out of the building, just three minutes later. Well, those three minutes had come and gone and there was no sign of his men.

"Cap, we-Damn it," Roy swore again. He still had the button pressed just long enough that Stanley could hear the sounds of falling rubble, then nothing.

"Damn it," agreed Hank. He looked over at Mike, who was watching the gauges and his captain, worry etched in his face.

DeSoto coughed and tested his arms and legs. Everything seemed alright, except for the slight pain in his back and shoulder, which he figured was from falling on his air tank. Nothing had fallen on him, and his helmet had protected his head, so he counted a minor victory. But he still had to find Johnny. Roy walked his way over the debris, hoping Johnny wasn't hurt.

"Roy, where are you?" If he was able to shout like that, maybe he was okay. Roy re-entered the room, scanning it for the tall form of his partner. He found him making his way over some of the ceiling that had caved in, and the older fireman figured he was okay enough to walk on his own.

"Let's get out of here!" This time he grabbed Johnny to make sure the younger man was with him. Cap was calling for him over the HT, but Roy didn't have the breath left to make a reply-he was too busy trying not to cough his lungs up and keep his mask on at the same time. More rumbling made them move faster. By the time they were down the stairs to the second floor, the fifth and fourth were crashing down. They made it through the building's entrance as the weight of the soaking plaster, cement, and wood became too much for the remaining floors and it all came down.

"DeSoto, Gage," barked Stanley, heading towards the squad and them. "What the hell happened in there?!"

"That's exactly what I want to know," Roy replied around a cough, looking at John. He looked between the older men in confusion.

"What?"

"Where the hell were you? I told you we were leaving, you were supposed to be right behind me!"

Johnny was taken aback by the anger in Roy's voice. He moved his mouth wordlessly. Roy went on, straightening from his bent position.

"Damn it, John, I expect you to listen when I tell you something that important. We could've been trapped in there, or worse, and we nearly were!"

"But, I..." For once, John Gage was speechless. DeSoto was working himself up, and Gage could see the part of Roy that was still that Master Sergeant from the Army. He'd seen that side of Roy before, but had never been on the receiving end. Frankly, he didn't like it too much.

"Look, we'll get it sorted out later," Hank said, looking back at the burning building behind him. "Right now we need you guys on the hoses. Come on."

Wordlessly, the two followed their captain.

It was an hour before the fire was under control, and another hour before companies were released. The men pulled in to Station 51 tired, sore, and hungry.

"DeSoto, Gage, my office, now." Stanley didn't wait for an acknowledgment. The pair looked at each other, then went in, Roy closing the door behind them.

"Now, I want to know what happened in there." Neither said anything. "Come on guys, something did."

"I was checking an apartment when Roy said the call to get out had been ordered. He helped me check the room, said it was clear and that we were leaving."

Hank motioned for the two to take a seat and they did. When they were settled, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.

"So, you heard Roy say to get out?" John nodded, looking at the wall closest to him.

"Then why weren't you following me? I looked behind me, you weren't there, and I thought the worst."

"I wasn't sure the apartment was clear, I wasn't finished checking it. You were more focused on getting out than checking, so-" John stopped himself, suddenly becoming very aware of how that sounded.

Roy and Hank were very aware of how that sounded, too. Hank leaned back, speechless, and Roy looked like he'd been punched in the gut. Johnny winced at the hurt he saw in Roy's eyes and opened his mouth to apologize, but Roy chuckled darkly, cutting him off.

"So, that's how it is huh? You were thinking that I was so concerned with getting out alive that I wouldn't be thorough? Or, were you thinking that you couldn't trust my judgement call?"

"Roy, I didn't think that, I didn't even mean to imply that!"

"Oh, no? Then what exactly did you mean, John?"

He couldnt' remember a time when Roy had called him John, and not Johnny. The fact that the senior fireman did just hit it home how angry he was.

"Look, I just meant...all I was saying was..." He sighed and looked at his hands for a minute, eyebrows knit together and face drawn. "I just wanted to be sure, that's all," he finally said.

"And you couldn't be sure with just my word, is that it?" Johnny looked up at Roy sharply.

"No! It's not that I don't trust you, Roy, it's..." He didn't know what he could say.

Hank looked between the two men, worried he was seeing the end of a partnership, and friendship, because of miscommunication. Being a bystander, as it were, he could see that that was what it boiled down to, not lack of trust, just miscommunication. They would see it too, after a bit of time to cool off. He hoped.

Roy turned to his captain, as if he remembered he was there. "Was there anything else you needed, Cap?"

Stanley sighed and tapped the papers on his desk with the palm of his hand. "No, that's it for now."

DeSoto nodded, excused himself, and walked out of the room. Johnny looked after him, then cursed and shook his head.

"Chet's right. I am an idiot."

"Don't worry about it too much, huh John? You guys just have to calm down a bit, let the adrenaline wear off some, then you'll work it out."

"Yeah, sure Cap." Stanley couldn't help but think John looked like a puppy who'd just been punished with a newspaper and nobody would play with him. He didn't know what to say to make it better, so he didn't say anything at all, just watched him walk out of the room.

John went to the locker room, to wash up a bit before eating, and saw Roy there, sitting on a bench staring at his hands. It felt awkward, with neither of them saying anything. Tension still hung in the air, making it even more difficult. Johnny went to the sink and washed his hands, his face. He was drying off when Roy finally spoke.

"The police...stopped the investigation for the hit and run." The quiet statement seemed to echo in the room. John looked up and studied Roy through the mirror. He was still hunched over, staring at his hands as they hung between his knees. John braced his own hands against the sink and leaned against it.

"Did they say why?" Roy shrugged and shook his head.

"Just not enough evidence to find whoever did it." They were silent again.

"You know," began Roy, rubbing his hands together and finally looking up. "These past couple of months were pretty rough, trying to get used to Joanne not being there. But, I got through it. So did the kids."

John turned around, kept leaning on the sink. It crossed his mind to apologize but he didn't open his mouth. Roy went on.

"I..uh, I don't think I thanked you for helping us out."

What the hell? After what had just happened, why was Roy thanking him? Finally, Roy looked John in the eyes, the hurt making them almost grey.

"It feels like you don't trust me, and I don't know why that is. I'm not sure when it happened, or how."

John pushed himself away from the sink, took a few steps forward. "I do trust you! If I didn't, do you think I'd go in a burning building with you? Better yet, do you think I'd ride shotgun in the squad if I didn't? The way you drive, that's trust!"

Roy tried to grin at the weak joke but it didn't work.

"It's not you I don't trust, it's me, I guess. I couldn't trust myself to leave that room until I knew it was clear. If it had turned out it wasn't, then..."

"If it had turned out that someone had still been in there, it would've been on me, not you."

"Why just you? I was working that end, I'd started in there first, so that would've been my fault, not yours!"

"I made the decision, not you."

"But that doesn't mean that you would have had to take it all on your own!"

The look on Roy's face told Johnny that he thought otherwise, but didn't say it out loud. "God, why do you have to be so stubborn?" John nearly shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

Roy slowly stood, face smoothing out so his anxiety and pain wouldn't show. "I'm going to get something to eat."

"Roy-" He was already out the door. Johnny stood there for a few moments before slamming his fist against the sink and leaning over it again, head hanging.

"Station 51, Engine 49, car over the cliff, 2 miles north of Dolly Parton Bridge, on I-10. Time out, 1739."

The rides in the squad usually were quiet, both of them trying to prepare themselves for whatever they may be about to face, what they may have to do. This ride was especially quiet, since they had more than the rescue on their mind.

It was hard to tell where the car had gone off the road at, since there weren't any guard rails along that stretch of the interstate. The had to double back once before they found it, and when they did and looked it over, they didn't think anyone had survived it.

"Roy, John, ropes and harnesses guys," said Stanley as Engine 49 pulled up.

Roy was just finishing strapping his harness on and was putting on his gloves, when another fireman came up, rope in hand. Roy nodded to him, and they went to the side, the fireman tieing one end to the squad and Roy attaching it to his ring. Positioning himself at the edge, he carefully made his way down.

Johnny was coming around the squad with his own harness and gloves on when he heard the yells and shouts, something snap, and then a long scream. He ran to the edge where a crowd had gathered and elbowed his way through, dread snaking through him and making his heart pound.

"What the hell happened?"

Mike looked at him, the panic and fear on his face making him pale. "Roy fell, his rope broke."

Johnny's veins felt like they had ice water running through them as he digested that. Without a word, he sprinted to the squad, opened a compartment with a little more force than necessary, and took out a rope. He tied it to the back of the squad and tried not to look at the other rope still there. Set up and ready, he started his decent, hearing his captain call for another squad.

When he reached the bottom, he unclipped from the rope and made his way to Roy's still body, trying not to think the worst and failing. He reached for a pulse at the neck and found it, weak but there. He was torn between helping his partner, his best friend, or helping the nameless stranger in the car.

What would Roy do?

Johnny went to the car.

**Black-Angel-001: i leave you there in suspense for now. ;p**

***USC-University of Southern California.**

***FSU-Florida State University.**

***They never tell you what tribe Johnny is from, but I know Randolph Mantooth is Seminole, so that's what I made Johnny.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: so this will be my last update for a while as life has thrown a couple of curve balls my way. hope you enjoy, and as always, thanks for the reviews! they are what makes this story possible.**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_The real test of faith does not come from outside. The greatest dangers to faith come from within: pride, doubt. Those are the true tests of God."_ --from a sermon given by Father Hector Perez

It was a miricale that the whole front end wasn't smashed in. An even bigger miricale that Johnny could open the passanger side door. The driver groaned and moved his head a little against the head rest, then settled. The entire car reeked of alchohol but Johnny wasn't sure if it was because the man had been drinking way too much or if he'd bought a few to take home and the bottles had broken.

_'If Roy's hurt because of a drunk, then...'_

He didn't want to finish that dark thought.

Pulling out his penlight, he checked the man's pupil reaction, then looked at where the blood was dripping down his head. Large gash, probably need stitches. No fluid or blood in the ears, or nose, bleeding from the lip, but that could be from the steering wheel. The man groaned again, his eyes flickering open.

"Wh-wh-"

"Sir, it's okay, everything's gonna be alright," reassured Johnny.

"Who?" He blinked at Johnny in a dazed confusion.

"I'm John Gage, I'm a fireman/paramedic with LA County Fire Department. You were in an accident, remember?" He checked the head again. Yep, there was a swelling purple blue bump on his forehead.

"No. No, no, I don't..." He looked around him, as if amazed by the broken glass and twisted metal.

"Sir, don't move, okay? Do you hurt anywhere? Your neck, your back? Huh?"

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living." John chuckled and the man grinned, then closed his eyes in pain. "Yeah, uh, my head, stomach and leg."

"Your stomach? What's it feel like?" Johnny pressed a hand down on his stomach gently. The man flinched and John saw his hand tighten into a fist.

"Not much better when you do that," he grit out.

"Sorry," John muttered distractedly. He leaned down to examine the man's leg, easily spotting it by the way the bone was sticking out through the skin. He sat back up. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so...I don't...I don't feel so good..." Johnny frowned.

"What do you mean? Like you're gonna puke not so good?"

"Something like that, yeah." He did look a little green around the gills. He heard movement behind him and after assuring the man that he would be right back got out of the car. A paramedic was leaning over Roy and his partner was getting the stokes and other equipment down the rope. He went over to the one checking out Roy.

"Is he-?"

"It's looks bad," the other man said grimly. It was always felt throughout the department when one of their own was injured or died, especially during rescues, epsecially when it was a fireman who'd been in the department for a long time, like Roy. Johnny swallowed hard and nodded, not really sure if he wanted to know.

"The guy in the car has what looks like a concussion, internal injuries, and a compound fracture," reported John. The other paramedic came up to them, drug box, trauma box, and bio phone all in hand.

"We've got splints in the stokes."

His partner nodded. "Are they sending down another one?"

"Yeah." He turned to John. "I'm Andy Anderson, that's my parnter Joshua Shelton."

"John Gage," he said while rummaging through the drug and trauma box. "And that's my parnter, Roy DeSoto." He took a breath to try and steady the quiver in his voice.

"Man, I'm really sorry," Anderson said while setting up the bio phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 10, how do you read?"

"Go ahead Squad 10," Dixie replied.

"Rampart, we have two victims, both male. Victim one is in his thirties, victim two is in his...." he looked at Johnny.

"Forties." He pulled out the BP cuff. "I'll be back with the vitals."

"Victim one fell from a cliff, apparent injuries are broken arm and leg, head trauma, and possible injury to the spine, but we can't be sure at this time. There is fluid in the ears. Victim is currently unconsious. Stand by for..."

That was all Johnny heard by the time he made it back to the car, and really that was all he cared to hear.

"Hey, how you feelin'?" He asked the man, wrapping the BP cuff around his upper arm.

"Not s'good," he slurred.

"Well, don't worry, we'll get you out of here and to the hospital just as soon as we can." He let the air hiss out, then made a note in his book. He took his wrist and took the pulse and respiration. "Alright, you just take it easy and I'll be back."

"Rampart, we have the vitals on victim number two," reported Anderson, taking the paper from John. He read them off, along with the injuries.

"Squad 10, on victim's one administer D5LR IV, keep him well ventilated, use spinal precautions, and transport as soon as possible. On victim two, start LR IV, wrap the fracture, imobilize and transport," Dr. Brackett ordered from the other end.

"10-4 Rampart." Anderson looked at John. "How's it look on getting the guy out?"

"We can get him out through the passenger side easily enough, I'm just gonna need some help."

"Okay, can you go ahead with the IV?" Johnny nodded. "Then get started with that and as soon as I'm done helping Josh I'll come help you."

John nodded again, took the IV supplies, Ringer's and a C-collar back to the car. The man was still groggy, but responded whenever Johnny asked him or told him something. When Andy came back and began helping him remove the man from the car, a little of the worry constricting his heart eased knowing that know Roy was getting to the hospital to be taken care of. Together, the two paramedics gently and carefully pulled the patient out and onto a backboard. As soon as he was flat, John began wrapping just above and below the fracture, the entire time keeping up a dialouge to ease the man. Finally, the put him in the stokes, got him topside, and then themselves.

"You wanna go with your partner, and we'll go with that guy," Anderson asked as the ambulances pulled up.

John thought hard about it before shaking his head. "No, I'll stay with Mr. Daniels." Anderson nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and helped his partner. Johnny watched them for half a second before busying himself with his own patient.

"Hey, Johnny, is Roy gonna be okay," Chet came up asking, concern lining his face. John looked over his shoulder, then handed the attendant the drug box to turn and look at Chet. He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes was answer enough. "Don't you think that you should go with him?"

"I can't." With those two words, John stepped up in the ambulance and set up the bio phone, checking the IV. Soon they were on their way.

It was strange, he thought, how he could do one thing but his mind was focused somewhere else entirely. While he was taking vitals and fussing with IV lines, he thought about how badly he wanted to be in that ambulance with Roy. But like he told Chet, he couldn't. It wasn't because he didn't trust his abilities as a paramedic to treat his friend, but more because he knew that if he did work on Roy and Roy didn't make it, he couldn't live with himself after. John sighed softly to himself. Then there was the fact that he had made his choice to stick with their inital victim and had to see it through; Roy would do no less. But he felt like he was breaking rule number one from the fire acadamy.

_Rule number one rookies: never, ever, in your entire career as firemen, knowingly leave a fellow fireman down, or behind._

It was one of the biggest sins you could commit in the department. As a paramedic, the rules were just a little different. If the patient had a pulse, they were your first priority. Now that Johnny had a full appreciation for what that rule meant, he never wanted another lesson in it, ever.

The flury of activity at Rampart forced him to concentrate on what he was doing, rather than what he was thinking. He helped move the patient from the gurney to the bed, handed the IV over, calmed Daniels down when he got agitated. The X-ray technician came in, and Joe and Johnny stepped outside.

"Why don't you go see how Roy's doing? I think they have him in treatment room three," Early said before moving off to go get a cup of coffee while waiting for the x-rays. Johnny didn't need any more permission than that. He made it to through the door of the treatment room with a quick step.

"Doc, how's he doing?" John stepped up beside Brackett, who was checking Roy's pupil reaction.

"His pressure's dropping, we had to put him on the ventilator." The doctor frowned, looked at the IV, and then at John. The young paramedic was watching his partner, looking at every bandage and bruise. "I'm waiting on the x-rays to finish processing, so we know what we're dealing with."

"Full series?"

Brackett nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if he glowed in the dark after this."

John gave a short chuckle. Dixie stuck her head in. "Kel, 51 called, wanted to know about Roy. Johnny, they put you as 10-8."

"As soon as the x-rays come in Dix." Brackett looked at the ventilator settings to reassure himself they were right.

"Thanks Dixie." She nodded and went back out as the x-ray tech came in.

"Doctor," was all he said, handing them over. Brackett quickly took them and set them up, studying each one carefully. John stood with him.

"Yeah, broken radial, two places...lot's of hairline fractures." He switched out the arm and leg pictures for the all important ones, the head and spine. "Cracked his skull pretty good." There was a spot that worried Kel, but he didn't mention it to Johnny. "And it looks like he fractured his neck, but his spine looks intact, amazingly enough."

"But it still isn't good," intoned Johnny, looking from the x-rays to his friend.

"No, it isn't. But now that we know what we're dealing with, we're gonna take care of it." Kel moved over to the phone, but paused a moment. "Why don't you go call the station and update them."

"What am I gonna tell them?" He was still staring at Roy.

"That he's going into surgery. That's about all you can tell them right now." Brackett put in the call for an OR, surgical team, and orthepidic surgeon.

Johnny stared at Roy a few seconds more before he left the room. He went to the baystation, running a hand over his face. Dixie looked up at him. He paused a moment, then went on to the lounge. Dr. Early was still in there, drinking his coffee. Silently, John got a cup for himself and sat at the table but he didn't drink it. He twisted the cup around in full and half circles absently, watching the dark liquid slosh gently against the sides.

"You know, this reminds me of when you were hit by that car," Joe said after a long silence. John glanced up at him but went back to watching the coffee.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm. Roy was sitting right where you are, with a cup of coffee that he wasn't really drinking, worrying about you." The doctor looked into the depths of his own coffee, as if he could see the answer to every question in there. "I can't tell you for certain he'll be okay, and I won't lie to you like that. But, I'll tell you that he's got a very good chance."

Johnny knew Early was trying to make him feel better, to give him a little bit of hope. But it wasn't the uncertainty of wether Roy would live or not that nawed at him, it was the uncertainty of wether or not Roy would live because he did the right thing. He couldn't be sure that his actions wouldn't cost his best friend his life, his children their father. Nothing could ease that until Roy was out of the woods. Early was called away to look at his patient's x-rays, and Johnny sat alone in the lounge.

"Johnny?"

His head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice, and he met Reia's concerned gaze with red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" He cleared his throat to get the thickness out of the back of it. She sat down next to him and studied his profile, the concern growing bit by bit.

"Captain Stanley told me what happened when I called the station, and I came right over. Is there any news?"

Johnny shook his head. "He's still in surgery."

Reia put her hand over his and squeezed it gently. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"What do you want me to say?" He couldn't quite hide the bitterness and pain that laced his words.

"Whatever you have to say," she said quietly.

"We had a fight earlier, before the run. I didn't really get to apologize to him." He took a deep breath. "Reia, what if-

She smacked him in the back of the head. "Finish that thought, John Gage, and I'll do it again," she warned.

"But-"

"As soon as he's able, you can say you're sorry, and he will too, and it'll all be okay."

"But-"

"You'll both be going on runs together again before you know it."

"Reia, I-"

"There's really no reason to beat yourself up for anything that happened, or may happen."

"It-"

"It is that simple, you're just making it complicated!"

Johnny stared at her then smiled a little. "Are you going to let me say anything?"

"I just did, didn't I? And as long as it isn't something stupid, you can say whatever you want."

"Well, looks like she gave you the pep talk before I could," Dixie commented, leaning against the doorway. The couple looked up at her.

"Dix?" Johnny was half out of his seat.

"Kel wants to talk to you in his office, Johnny. Reia, you can go too, if you like." She barely made it out of the way before he was rushing by, Reia following closely.

"It was close," Kel said, folding his hands on his desk. "But, we aren't in the clear just yet. The next 48 hours or so will tell us more, but we've got every belief that Roy's gonna make it."

"What about permanent damage?"

Brackett shook his head to John's question. "We won't be able to determine that until he's more aware. Now, there is something that we are watching carefully and will be for a while."

"The fracture to his neck?" That worried Johnny more than anything. What if the break had damaged his spinal cord?

"No, that's alright. What I'm talking about is a blood clot that we had to remove from his brain." Both Johnny and Reia went pale, but Kel hurried on before they could say anything or think anything worse than what they already were. "Hold on now, both of you. I know what you're thinking: you're wondering if there's any brain damage and I'm telling you we don't know that for sure. That's why we're going to be paying extra close attention to it."

"Doc, do you really think Roy's going to be okay?" Reia smacked him in the back of the head again. "Ow!"

Kel chuckled and stood. "Couldn't have said it any better myself Reia. If you want to see him, that's fine, just make it quick, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Johnny stood, a semi-relieaved grin breaking out. "Thanks, Doc." They shook hands.

In Roy's private room, Johnny stood at his bedside, studying all the tubes and wires connected to his friend. It was surreal seeing him like that, and Johnny did half hope that it was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn't, he knew.

"Hey pally, looks like you made it. Knew you would, you're way too stubborn not to." He put his hands in his pockets, shuffled his feet, pulled his hands back out and ran them through his hair. "Now you better make it all the way, hear me? Chet gets way too abnoxious when you're not around, and as much as I like driving the squad, it just doesn't feel right. Don't worry, I'll take care of the kids, too, until you're back on your feet." John carefully squeezed Roy's shoulder, hoping to get some kind of response from the still figure. There wasn't any.

'Stupid, Gage, he's so doped up right now it'd be a miricale and a half if he did move around!' With one last look at Roy, Johnny went back to the ER waiting room.

"Hey, how is he?" John blinked in surprise at the person who rose from his seat to greet him.

"Chet? What're you doing here?" Chet rolled his eyes.

"That's a dumb question. I drove the squad here, had to wait on you. So, answer my question, how's Roy?"

"Out of surgery, sleeping now. We won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"And that'll be...?"

"I don't know," snapped Gage. Kelly raised an eyebrow and the paramedic sighed. "Sorry, it's just been a really long day."

"Man, I hear you. Oh, and I thought you should know that cap already called in a replacement parnter for you, he should be there by now." They stepped out of the hospital and towards the squad. Johnny waited until they were in and on their way before continueing any more conversation.

All the men at Station 51 were quiet and reserved, even Chet. Nobody felt like even pretending to be cheerful and optomistic, although they did perk up a little when Johnny gave the report about Roy's condition. They ate dinner, skipped desert, and watched a movie because no one felt like going to bed just yet, and because they still weren't tired, they watched another movie. Finally, they couldn't avoid it anymore and cap called lights out.

The next morning saw the men in no better spirits than last night. Johnny was already awake and in the kitchen when the rest of them filed in, grabbing coffee and rubbing their eyes.

"Hey, John, what are you still doing up pal," Hank asked.

"Couldn't sleep," muttered Gage, lifting his head from his fist to look at Stanley. "I kept waiting for the hospital to call."

"Why would they call," asked Chet, sitting next to cap. John cut his eyes sideways in his direction.

"Why else, news on Roy, good...or bad."

"John, you can't think like that," put in Marco as he sat at the table.

"That's right, positive thinking. Does wonders." Chet looked around the room, nodding his head. "And you know what helps positive thinking? Yoga."

"Oh, no." John leaned back in his chair, a look of apprehension and disgust on his face at the idea. Everyone but Chet made a similar face.

"What, I'm serious."

"That's what we're afraid of," dead-panned Mike. The group laughed some, and the mood lifted slightly.

When they were at the hospital and had some time, John stopped to check in on Roy, but there wasn't much change. He questioned Brackett about his condition, but the answers always stayed the same: no, he hadn't woken up, no, they still couldn't say what kind of damage there would be, permanent or otherwise, yes, they'd call the station as soon as there was news. John's new but temporary partner seemed uncomfortable with the visits, but Gage figured he could go play on the freeway; Roy was his partner and friend, and nothing some wet-behind-the-ears-newly-certified-rookie-paramedic said was going to stop him.

"I dunno, Adam, are you sure?"

"I'm sure that the lab just confirmed that that rope had been cut." Barton put the item in question down on his desk and sat in his chair. "Now, we've gotta find the guy that did it, and I have a pretty good idea of where to start."

Todd's green eyes grew wide and he ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "Jesus, Adam, you know what you're saying?" His partner didn't reply. "That's like accusing someone in the police department! And you know firemen are just as close as cops; you don't mess with one without getting the whole bunch of them down on you like a ton of bricks!"

Adam leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and tapping a folder with his finger. "Yeah, and what do you think this case is about? One of their own is in a hospital room breathing off a machine because some dipwad decided to cut him off, almost literally! You think the rest of those hose jockey's aren't looking for some blood from whoever did that?"

"But you're saying it's one of theirs that did it. They won't like that any more than DeSoto falling from a cliff."

"With some luck they'll help us get the rat that did it. Guys like that aren't too well appreciated in the fire department either, you know."

Todd nodded and sighed. "Okay, so who're we checking out first, so when the chief engineer asks I can give him a name."

"First, we're going to check out his partner, John Gage."

**Black-Angel-001: -cue the dramatic music- so, the plot thickens. will roy live? will the detectives really arrest johnny for trying to murder roy? will johnny ever learn his temporary partner's name? what'cha looking at me for, i don't know either!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: the pitcher has retired for now, and things are looking good at the eight quarter....what's with the baseball analogy? i don't even like baseball! O.o okay, warning time: small children angst ahead, use caution. also some cop theories that may make you cheer or jeer.**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_I suppose that nature works on such a hopeful basis that we believe against ourselves that things will be as easy as they ought to be, not as we should know what they will be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to the angels, even if it be will-o'-the wisp to man_." --Bram Stoker, _Dracula_

John pulled the squad into the station and glanced at whatever-his-name-was (he wasn't too interested in learning the guy's name) and got out as soon as the engine shut off.

"Gage, come in here, will you," Hank called, stopping him in the doorway of the day room. There was a moment where he and the new guy tried to get around each other with a little difficulty, but John finally just grabbed his shoulders, set him to the side, and went on his way.

"Yeah, cap?" He looked around the office, and sighed, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand, the other on his hip. It was like dejavu. Detectives Barton and Burnes were standing next to the cap's chair, looking serious, and next to them was the battalion chief, just as serious.

"Oh, great," he muttered under his breath before putting on a careless grin. "So, what brings the brothers grimm to our humble little station?"

The chief scowled. "This is no laughing matter, Gage."

"John, why don't you sit down," motioned Stanley, his expression telling John not to argue.

As he sat, Barton stepped up, and it was like an instant replay of a few months ago. "Mr. Gage, we're here to question you about the attempted murder of Roy DeSoto."

"What," Johnny yelled, jumping to his feet.

"Mr. Gage, sit down, please." The man's tone was polite, but commanding. His partner stepped up, as if he was going to have to physically restrain John.

'That's not fair, that's two on one,' thought Johnny even as he took his seat again.

"Now," Barton continued when everyone was settled. "I have to advise you of your rights." He pulled out a card. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one can be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have just read them?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, let's start from when you got the call. What happened?"

So John told them over and over again, until finally they began asking other questions. Not that he was too thrilled about that, either.

"Yesterday, before the call for the cliff, you and DeSoto were at a fire, right?"

"That's right." John stretched his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed and arms folded across his chest.

"You ended up in an argument, didn't you, at the scene?"

He sat forward. "How'd you-?"

"We're supposed to know, we're the police," said Burnes, looking at his partner.

John scoffed and leaned back again, putting his forehead against his palm and looking to one side. "Yeah, well, too bad you didn't know half as much when you were investigating Joanne's murder else you'd have caught the guy by now."

Burnes turned red and Barton narrowed his eyes. "Gage," chief said in a warning tone. Johnny raised his eyebrows in a 'Who, me?' look.

"Gage, there are at least 20 firemen who saw and heard the argument. We followed up on that with your own shift mates, and they said you and your partner had another one here at the station," Barton said, tapping his pencil against his notepad.

"It wasn't really an argument, more like a misunderstanding. And don't you have..._misunderstandings_with your partner too," John asked, waving a hand at Todd.

"My parnter isn't the one that fell ten plus feet down the side of a cliff," shot back Barton.

Johnny really didn't have much to say to that. Barton puffed out a breath, looked at the other men, and put the notebook and pencil in his inside jacket pocket. "We're done here for now. Gage, we'll be back to see you."

"I know, I know, don't leave town."

As he passed out of the room, Barton clapped his shoulder and said, "You've been watching too many cop shows."

As soon as they were gone, John turned to Hank and the chief. "What in the world is making them think it was attempted murder? I thought it was just an accident."

The chief shook his head. "One of the men from 49's took a look at the rope DeSoto was using, and thought it looked like it had been cut. His brother is a cop, who took a look at it, and was inclined to agree."

"But I wasn't anywhere near there when Roy fell." _'Don't remind yourself_.'

"We know John," Hank said. "And we also know that you wouldn't do something like that to Roy, no matter how mad you are at him."

"It's sketchy, Adam," commented Todd as they drove back to the station. "The D.A. would never go for an arrest warrant with just the theory that Gage wanted to get back at DeSoto for that argument, especially with all the eyewitness accounts that Gage wasn't around."

"I know, I know," muttered Adam, thinking. Something wasn't adding up, like a puzzle piece was missing. From everything they'd heard, Roy DeSoto didn't have an enemy in the world, and John Gage just wasn't the type of guy to do something like cut a man's rope. Everyone praised them as the best paramedic team in the department, and the chief engineer even said it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. But if it wasn't Gage, then who? At a red light, Barton tried a different approach to his thinking. The lab was sure beyond reasonable doubt that the rope had been cut, but they couldn't say if it was before DeSoto used it or not. "These firemen, they're pretty meticulous about their equipment, huh?"

"Like how you and I are with our guns," replied Todd, looking out his window.

"Do you think they check everything, even the ropes? Regularly, I mean," said Adam after some silence. Todd looked at his partner, eyebrows knit together.

"Where are you going with this?"

"I'm not sure yet." They drove the rest of the way in silence, each in their own thoughts.

John yawned as he stopped at a red light. The cops hadn't gotten back in touch with him after the interview at the station, and he hadn't heard anything since either. He made a turn and smiled a little. He was just getting off work, and he was on his way to Reia's veterinarian office. Chris and Jenny were there too, having no school that day, and Roy's sister in law couldn't watch them on such short notice so Reia had volunteered. The kids loved the idea of spending the day with a vet and all those animals.

He pulled into the parking lot and hopped out, glad the kids were excited enough that they weren't really thinking about their dad in the hospital. He stepped in and looked around before going to the main desk where Reia's assistant/secretary was sitting.

"Mornin' Amelia, how's things?" He leaned his forearms against the counter and grinned at the young girl.

Amelia blushed a little. "Quiet for once. Reia's in the back with the kids." Johnny was almost to the door when her quiet voice said, "How...how's their father?"

It was a while before he answered. "No change." He closed the door on her soft Spanish prayer.

"Is she going to be okay," he heard Jenny ask in a worried voice. The little girl loved animals and Johnny hoped Reia wasn't letting them help with a really bad one.

"I believe that in about three weeks, she'll be in the best of form," assured Reia. "She's going to have a litter of kittens."

Jenny began an excited dialogue about kittens and how cute they were and how she wanted one when he stepped into the exam room. Reia was leaning over an exam table, softly stroking the cat that lay on it. Jenny was standing on a stool so she could reach and Chris was standing on his tip toes, looking interested without trying to show it. They all turned to look at him, even the cat.

"Uncle Johnny, this kitty's gonna be a mama," informed Jenny, excitement and wonder shining in her eyes.

"So I heard," he grinned. Without preamble, he went right over to Reia and kissed her, smiling against her mouth when the kids went through the standard 'Ew's' and "Oh, gross' comments. She smiled at him when he pulled back, taking off her glasses.

"So, are you here to lend your skills to the aid of sick animals, or are you just a spectator?" Reia carefully picked the expectant cat up, holding the animal close to her chest as she put it in a cage.

"I thought I'd just watch, Dr. Brackett and them are better at takin' care of sick animals," he said, thinking of the baby goat that had been treated at Rampart.

"Chicken." He made a clucking noise and they laughed. Johnny was glad. It had been a couple of days since he'd seen the kids laugh and smile. "Alright, who wants to help me examine an iguana?" Chris perked up some, probably just like Reia had thought. Her wink at John just confirmed his suspicion as she walked past to get the lizard.

"Uncle Johnny, can we go see Daddy today?"

Well, that had totally blown him out of the water. He'd expected the question sometime of course, but he wasn't prepared for it so soon. Johnny looked into her blue eyes, then Chris' brown ones, and wondered just what he was going to say.

"Not today, I think sweetheart."

He expected them to go along with what he said, maybe grudingly, pout some, then go back to helping Reia. He expected that to be the end of it.

Would he ever learn anything about kids?

They didn't pout, or go along with what he'd said, and no, they didn't rush to the table when Reia came back in with the iguana.

Jenny's bottom lip quivered and tears filled her eyes. Some of Johnny's willpower wavered. Chris went to stand next to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Why, Uncle Johnny?" She sniffed, bravely trying to hold in the tears.

"Your daddy needs to rest." That was true, just not the whole truth. He didn't think the kids could handle seeing their father hooked up to all the machines, and he didn't want their image of their father ruined before it had to be. Kids their age needed to know that their father's could do anything, fix anything.

"We wouldn't bother him none." Chris nodded, patting her shoulder.

"Jenny, I just don't think-"

"We've been good, Mama always let us when we were good, we haven't been bad." She put her face in her hands and gave in to the tears, crying hard for her daddy. Chris put his arm around her shoulders and shot Johnny a 'See what you did, you big bully' glare and Reia raised an eyebrow at him. She'd be no help.

Johnny knelt on the floor so he was more on their level and put a hand on her head. "Sweetheart, I just don't want you to get scared or anything. Your daddy's never been this hurt before, and you've never seen him like he is now."

"He's dead isn't he," said Chris, quietly. "He's dead, and nobody'll tell us. That's why you won't let us see him."

"Daddy's dead?!" Jenny's horror struck face looked at her brother and then at Johnny. "Is our daddy dead too, Uncle Johnny?"

John felt some of his heart and resolve break. He pulled Jenny close in a hug and stroked her hair. "No, Jenny, no your daddy isn't dead." She pulled away and both brother and sister stared hard at him, their eyes begging for the truth. "I swear, he isn't."

"For real?" Chris cautiously asked. Geez, the kid was like his dad in his cautious, think things through nature.

"For real." John sighed. "Okay, I'll take you to see him, but you've gotta listen to what I tell you and follow the rules." The kids nodded, and Jenny wiped her tears. Reia came around to give her a tissue for her nose. "Then after we see him, you guys can come with me and we'll go someplace nice, okay?"

They nodded again and went to get their coats. Reia watched after them a moment then went back to her lizard.

"Breaks your heart, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. You think this is okay to do? Letting them see Roy?"

Reia looked up at him. "Is it okay to let them continue to think their father is dead?" Okay, she had a point. "Besides, children can't think their father is superman forever, and now that it's just Roy to raise them, they really need to see that."

Johnny kissed her again. "You're incredible. Somehow you always know what to say."

She smiled softly, the smile that he loved and only he saw. "It's all part of my Spanish heritage." He kissed her again.

"Want to come with us? I'm sure the kids would love to have your company, and it goes without saying that I would." Reia kept strange hours at her office, as she also made house calls. Plus, she could close and open again in a matter of a few hours if she wanted.

"I'll meet you after your visit with Roy, okay?" Johnny nodded.

"Want to stay at my place tonight," he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She laughed and slapped his arm playfully.

"We're ready." Johnny looked over at the kids. He kissed her again, one last time.

"I'll call you here from the hospital, okay?"

"Alright." She started shooing at them. "Go on, go on."

The kids were pretty quiet on the drive to Rampart, and Johnny wondered what they were thinking. At the hospital, they ran into Dr. Early, who made all the appropriate comments about how big they were. Again, John thought about how the older doctor would make a great father and grandfather. Dixie went up with them and teased the kids and Johnny, keeping things light and airy. John appreciated the effort, and hoped she would stick around as long as she was able because he didn't know how the kids would react.

When they went into the room, the curtains were pulled back and the blinds were open, letting warm sunlight in. A nurse was checking Roy's vitals, the machines, and seemed surprised to see all of them, but smiled, finished up, and bustled out. The children didn't seem to notice her, as they were intent on the still figure that was their father. Carefully and quietly, they approached the bed, side by side, hands locked together. Johnny came up behind them and he heard Dixie near the door.

Chris and Jenny tried to look at everything at once, but always ended up looking at their father's face. There was a steady rise and fall to his chest that seemed natural, but it wasn't. Jenny let go of her brother and gently gripped her father's larger hand with both of her smaller ones, laying her head on his arm, careful of the IV line snaking up it. She was small enough that by kneeling on the floor by the bed and tilting her head to a certain angle, she could watch her daddy's face.

"There's a new girl in my class, daddy, and her name is Samantha, but everyone calls her Sami," she began. She always told her father about what she'd done, what she'd seen, heard, who she'd met. After four days of not seeing him, she had a lot to tell him. But it wasn't the same, because he didn't say anything back, even when she asked a question, he didn't smile or laugh or frown, or give her ideas about how to make things better. He just lay there, sleeping and breathing. But she kept talking, because eventually he would open his eyes and talk back, she believed he would.

When she ran out of things to tell him, she fell silent, still staring. There was a sniffle in the room, but she didn't look to see who was crying although she was sad for the person. It always made her sad when other people cried and lately, there seemed to be a lot of it.

Chris watched and listen to his sister talk to their dad about everything she'd been doing. It was familiar and not, comforting and not. Always at home, at dinner, Jenny would start telling about her day, and dad would always listen with the utmost attention, and talk back to her like she was an adult. Then, when she was finished, he would say, "Now it's Chris's turn", and Chris would begin.

Only dad couldn't say that, so it made it weird for Chris to say anything. Jenny came to the rescue for him, turning to look at him, a small smile lighting her face and eyes.

"Now it's Chris's turn." That was all he needed. He talked about the football team, his new school project he was working on, whatever came to mind. He inched closer to the bed until he was sitting on the edge of it, still talking. Then he ran out of things to say. So the siblings just sat quietly near their quiet father. Finally, Chris got up, stood next to Jenny, and gripped her shoulder to pull her up. Fearful of hurting her daddy, Jenny let him. They left the same way they came in, side by side and hand in hand.

Johnny knew there was some things that just stuck with a man for the rest of his life, things you wouldn't be able to forget even when you were old and gray and couldn't remember what you said five minutes ago. The DeSoto kids sitting and talking with their father was one of the things he'd never forget. Looking at Dixie, who was wiping her eyes, he figured she was the same.

"I don't care how long you've been in this job, how much you've seen, heard, or had to do," she said, putting her hands in her pockets. "That was enough to tug at even the most seasoned of doctor's heartstrings."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Johnny stepped up to the bed. "See, partner, told you I'd take care of the kids, just till you're back on your feet, remember. They really miss you, you know. So does everyone at the station. Don't worry, just get better, huh? This new rookie kid is really getting on my nerves." He patted Roy's arm and turned to go, figuring to get on the road to head to that 'someplace special'. He opened the door, blinked, then sighed and leaned against the door frame. Dixie came to stand next to him and her face softened and saddened.

In the hallway, Chris was standing with his back to the door of his father's room, shoulders hunched, head down, hands stuffed in his pockets. Next to him, Jenny had reached up to put a hand on his shoulder. The two looked sad, afraid, and so very alone in that big hallway, comforting each other.

And there was another thing that would stay with him, Johnny thought. He called to them, put an arm each around both of them, and led them to the elevator, speaking cheerfully about where they were going.

Dixie went back down to the bay station some time after they had left, sitting there tapping a pen against the counter top, her head cupped in her hand. Kel came by, stopped, looked at her.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said lightly, making a joke.

"More than one," she replied, still looking at some spot somewhere across the room. "It amazes me how things work out sometimes."

"What do you mean?" Kel leaned against the counter.

"I mean, someone killed Joanne for apparently no good reason, leaving two small children and a husband without a mother and wife. Then, what was thought to be a freak accident turns out to be attempted murder." She turned her eyes to his face, the shock, the hurt, the pain she felt for her friends etched there. "Someone tried to kill Roy, and I saw what it would be like for his kids if he really did-" she cut herself off, not wiling to entertain those thoughts. Kel didn't know what to say, so he squeezed her shoulder.

"Come on, I'll buy you some coffee and something to eat," he offered. She smiled a little and went with him.

The someplace special turned out to be a forest trail that lead to somewhere, although Johnny wouldn't say where. Johnny had hoped the air and sights would help ease the kids and his hope had been answered. The trees were in full fall color or their evergreen, fall flowers were out and blooming, there were birds out and singing, and they even saw a deer, pausing off the trail to eat. Reia and Johnny kept a steady pace together and let the kids run ahead some, calling them when they got too far. Finally, he told the kids to stay close and be quiet, and they went through the treeline and into a clearing of tall grass and flowers. The few deer that were there lifted their heads to look at them before running off back into the forest.

"Come on, there's a stream over this way," John said, leading them. The water of the stream was crystal and clear, flowing gently with just the slightest noise.

"Uncle Johnny, look," Chris called, crouching on the balls of his feet and looking at the ground.

"Whatcha find?" John crouched next to him and Reia and Jenny went to look at a patch of flowers.

"Animal prints, see?" There were all kinds of prints in the mud bank, some over-lapping and others as clear as the stream.

"What ones are they," asked John. He'd shown Chris how to identify some tracks when he and the DeSoto family would hike together sometimes. The boy was good at remembering what he'd been told, and was comfortable in the wild.

"Um..." Chris squinted at the mud, ran a fingertip along the edge of one clear print. "That's deer, which makes sense since we just saw a few. This one...racoon." Chris shuffled to another clear one, Johnny shuffling along with him. "That is....I don't know." He looked at Johnny, who studied the large pawprint.

"Bear," he nodded. Chris's eyes went wide, but John couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement. "Kinda small, not full grown. What else?"

Chris pointed. "That one's a cat," he said, confidant. When Johnny looked, he had to agree.

"How'd you know?"

"Our next door neighbor's cat goes outside a lot, and leaves prints when she walks on the car. Those are smaller than this one, but the shape is pretty much the same."

"Good." John looked up and around, spotting Jenny and Reia smelling a wildflower near the edge of the forest. "Come on, let's call it a day."

The ride back to civilization was full of excited chatter about what they'd seen. When they got to Johnny's apartment, the kids got their stuff ready for school the next day while Johnny and Reia fixed dinner. It struck Johnny how much he liked having Reia work beside him in a home, listening to her talk or sing while she did something, or look up from a book to see her sitting quietly with some sewing or knitting.

After dinner, before the kids went to bed, he sat them down for a talk.

"I wanted to run something by you guys. What do you think if instead of you staying here, I stayed over at your house?" The kids looked at each other, then at him.

"We wondered why you just didn't do that to begin with," mentioned Chris, Jenny nodding. Johnny sat back, blinking, then laughed. Wouldn't it seem so simple to children? Why did adults make it so difficult?

"Okay then, that takes care of that. Night, Jenny, Chris."

The next day was a work day, so Johnny dropped the kids off at school, and went to the station, feeling pretty good about the day. His good mood was shattered into annoyance when he saw the two detectives looking at the squad and engine, cap and Stoker watching them.

"So, what brings you two back out here? More questions and accusations I suppose." Hank shot his paramedic a look, one that said to be nice.

"Questions yes, accusations, no," answered Burnes as Barton opened a compartment in Big Red. Maybe John was the only one who heard the implied 'Not yet, anyway' at the end of that?

"You're sure that nobody used the rope in this engine, Captain Stanley?"

"As sure as the sun came up this morning."

"Then where did DeSoto get his rope from, the squad?" Adam pulled out a bundle of rope and looked it over for any imperfections. He didn't see any.

"No, like Marco told you, he saw Roy get it from one of the guys at 49's." Stanley put both hands on his hips, looking between both men with some agitation. "Is there a point to this?"

"Maybe, we're just checking something is all." The detective put the rope back and pulled out another. "Now, you guys check this stuff regularly, right?"

"Of course," said Mike, leaning against his rig.

"Did you check your ropes before that run or after and do you have some sort of log for it?"

"Yeah, we keep a log. I can't tell you for sure if it was checked before the run, but that was the first thing we did as soon as we got back," Mike answered again. He was watching Barton inspect his ropes, and it twisted in his gut to see another man, who wasn't even a firefighter, go through his rig and equipment. What was the man looking for?

"Would you mind if we took a look at that log," asked Burnes. 'Ah,' thought Gage, 'it does speak in full sentances.'

"Sure, if you tell me what you're looking for exactly." Barton put the rope away and closed the compartment, then turned to Hank.

"Fine, I'll tell you as you pull out the logs to show me. Todd, you check out the squad, verify our information." Stanley couldn't really argue and the two went to the office, the door closing.

"You used rope from the squad to get to the victims, didn't you?" Figuring it was pointless to argue, Johnny opened the compartment where the ropes and belts were stored.

"Yeah, one of the guys here brought it back." Like his partner, Burnes inspected each bundle of rope carefully. "What exactly are you looking for detective?"

"The answer to a hunch," he said absently. Both ropes were clear. He closed the compartment, then looked at the rig and squad. "What are the chances of a rope breaking like it did in this case?"

"Slim to none," replied Stoker quickly.

"And besides," added Gage, "that rope didn't break, it was cut, remember?"

Burnes nodded. "Yeah. But I mean if a rope were to break, really break, what are the odds?"

"I told you, slim to none. As soon as we find a piece of equipment that has any sort of weakness, we either fix it or replace it."

"I realize you cops don't have as much equipment to carry with you, especially when you're a detective, so you probably don't get that this is our lives we're dealing with, and the lives of other people. So, we have to make sure our gear is tight and good."

Burnes nodded again. "You're right, cops don't carry as much as you guys." He patted the side of his jacket. "But we carry enough, and it takes just as much work to keep it up as it does your gear."

Johnny hmped. "I'm gonna get dressed," he said to Mike, who waved him off. He was standing in front his the engine much like a mother bear would stand in front of her cubs, figured Todd. These firemen were really possessive about their stuff, and who handled it. Barton and Stanley came out, shaking hands.

"Let us know how it turns out, huh?"

"You can count on it." Jerking his head, Barton and Burnes made their way out. Stanley watched them leave, then casually strolled over to his engineer.

"Down, Stoker."

"Huh?" Mike jerked as if startled out of a daydream and looked at Hank.

"You can stand down now, they're gone, and the engine is fine."

Mike blew out a breath and grinned sheepishly. "That obvious?"

"Even my nearsighted grandmother could've seen it." Hank patted his back. "After you finish assuring yourself your baby is okay, get some coffee and relax, huh?"

"Thanks, cap." As Hank walked away, Mike turned back to Big Red and ran his hand over the smooth side and over the gauges. He was glad Stanley hadn't given him a hard time about his protectiveness with the engine. It was something that he couldn't explain, and it was probably stupid, but he was in charge of the engine. Sure, the other guys made sure it looked good, the equipment worked, and so on, but in the end, he was responsible for it. He had to make sure everything was working perfectly, that nothing was out of place. And it grated on him proffessionaly when someone else went through and rifled through, most especially when that someone wasn't a fireman. It was just like if a guest had come over and went through his apartment.

With one last look over, Mike went for that coffee.

"We're close, Todd. We're this close to getting the son of a bitch." Adam pulled his hand off the wheel for a second to pinch his thumb and forefinger together until they were one inch apart.

"We aren't close to shit, Adam. We've just been running around looking at fire engines and pissing off firefighters more than we have already." Todd shifted in his seat, looked over at Adam. "You know, I thought that guy was gonna bare his teeth and hiss or something at me, the way he was glaring, and I don't care what you say, he was glaring." He pointed a finger at his partner to emphasize his point.

"You're paranoid and you're fiance'e has too many cats if you thought that," Barton said. He figured he was onto something, and he wasn't going to let Todd's mood shatter it. "Can't you see it? We've got him."

"Yeah? I don't see him in the back of the car." Todd twisted around in his seat to look in the back. "Nope, not there."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Haven't you figured it out yet moron? Gage didn't do it! We've got the evidence!"

"I thought we already agreed that he didn't. I mean, a dozen or so witness reports can be called something but what...oh, that's right! Evidence!"

Barton pulled the car into his parking space and turned off the engine. "Look, smartass, that could be used as hearsay. Firemen looking to protect their own. Even if he was holding that rope when DeSoto went down, they could still say he was five miles to Montanna."

"Are you saying our 13 eye witnesses are lying?" They slammed their doors shut at the same time and headed inside.

"No, they're telling it straight. I'm saying that they'd do whatever they could to protect one of their own, just like you, me, and any other cop in this building would do for one of ours."

"Adam, you're a good guy and God knows I'd take a bullet for you if I have to, but I wouldn't lie for you when it comes to murder, especially if it was about a cop."

"That's the point I'm trying to make here." They went into the break room and Adam poured a cup of coffee, handed it to Todd and poured his own. "Look, one of their own was almost murdered, that much has been proven by our forensics guys. Now, if it was just some Joe who did it, the hose jockey's would give him up like that." He snapped his fingers. Todd grabbed a cookie and bit into as they sat at the table. "They'd do the same if it was one of their own that did it, just like you and I would if it were a cop in this situation." Todd nodded and chewed, washing it down with some bitter coffee. Didn't Melvin's wife do something better than bake cookies? At least Melvin was better at solving crimes than he was at making coffee.

"Okay, so nobody was lying for Gage, but how could that be hearsay?"

"A defense attorney would point out how close firemen are, and use that to put doubt into the jurors minds."

"But you just said-"

Adam waved his hand as he drank. "I know what I said before, but the two of us experience it first hand. How many people on the street get it? Are close enough to their co-workers to see it?" He shook his head and took another swallow. "No, it'll be the ones who don't really care about who they work with who'll be the jury for that trial. But now we have solid evidence that Gage didn't do that to DeSoto."

"Okay, I'll bite." He added action to words, taking another bite out of the cookie. "What's the evidence."

"The ropes." At Todd's blank stare, Adam sighed. "Firefighters check their stuff regularly, we saw that when we went to 49's and 51's. They try not to leave equipment as much as possible, so they don't have to replace perfectly good gear. Marco Lopez, one of 51's, and Coop Brenner from 49's, plus two other guys saw DeSoto get the rope from one of the men at 49's. Brenner saw the man pull it out of the rig himself. I looked at the inspection sheet at both stations, and neither reported problems with the ropes."

"When did they check them? I mean, if they checked ropes a week ago, couldn't someone have cut it and then-?" Barton smiled. Finally, the kid was starting to think.

"I looked in on that, too. 51 had checked ropes the day DeSoto fell, and 49 had gone to assist with a car hanging over a bridge almost a week before. They used their ropes to secure it, and the car had gone over, taking the ropes with it. They put in a request for more, and got it the day before the fall. They didn't see any problems with them, so they kept 'em all."

"Wow." They had caught a lucky break with that one, and they both knew it. "Okay, so they've checked out their stuff, it's all good, in working order, we've got the dates to verify that it was good before that call..." Todd's eyes went wide and he sat back. "Holy shit."

Adam nodded. "The rope was cut at the scene, sometime before DeSoto used it."

"Holy shit," Todd repeated. "That means..."

"Yeah, it's all a matter of narrowing it down a little bit more."

**Black-Angel-001: real police work is not like that, you hardly ever get as lucky as the books, tv shows, and movies make it out, although you do catch a break sometimes.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_It is really wonderful how much resilence there is in human nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way-even by death- and we fly back to the first principle of hope and enjoyment_." --Bram Stoker, _'Dracula'_

It was a quiet day, unusual for the station, but the men welcomed the break. They were sitting in the break room, drinking coffee, reading, playing chess, doing paperwork in cap's case, and in the case of Johnny's temporary partner, Keith (he'd been forced to learn the guy's name after a call of 'Hey you' didn't work to warn him to watch out for falling debris), he was avoiding Johnny. Which was fine, as far as John was concerned.

John was about to move his bishop in hopes of forcing Mike's queen back when the phone rang. He made his move, kept his eye on the board as he got up to answer.

"LA County Fire Department, Station 51, this is Fireman Gage. Oh, hey doc. Yeah? Yeah?" All the firemen stopped what they were doing and looked up at Johnny, who's eyes were wide and his face warring between disbelief and shock. Fear clutched at them as the ideas of what could be wrong leapt through their minds. "No. I mean, well...uh-huh. Alright. Listen, doc, we've gotta get supplies anyway, but if we get a run before we head out for that...right. Right. Yeah. Okay. Hey, thanks a bunch. Alright, bye." He hung up, kept his back to the rest of the crew and hung his head. The fear grew and they stood.

"Johnny? Was it about Roy," asked Mike.

"Yeah." No one could tell if he was happy or sad or mad or what, which caused even more concern.

"Well, what happened?" Marco took a step closer.

"Doctor Brackett, he, uh, he said..." They leaned closer as John trailed off, anxious. Suddenly, Johnny whirled around, a huge smile on his face. "Roy's pressure is up, he's breathing more on his own, his responses and reflexes are good. They're looking at slowly taking him off the ventilator in a couple of days."

A collective sigh of relief ran through them.

"Gage, you twit, you had us all thinking-"

"Y'know, cap, that just doesn't quite have the same ring to it as it does with Kelly." He grinned and ducked as the captain made a somewhat teasing swing for his head.

"So, Roy's gonna be okay now?" John looked at Chet and some of the smile faded.

"Well, he still doesn't know if the clot did any real damage, but he doesn't think so. All the tests look good. He has officially cleared the woods, gentlemen."

Chet clapped his hands together. "This calls for a celebration. I'm going to make my famous strawberry cheesecake."

"I never figured out why you can make cheesecake so well but not anything else," said Marco as he trailed behind Chet.

Johnny tuned out the rest of the conversation as he went to the couch, whistling. Roy was going to be okay, Brackett was almost sure of it, and Early agreed, so it must be true. His partner was going to be okay. As that sank in, he slowed his steps before turning on his heel to the latrine. He leaned over a sink, gripping the sides and breathing hard. Johnny realized that he'd never really taken the time to actually think about Roy getting better, because he hadn't wanted it to hurt that much worse if he didn't. But now, the worry and stress was oozing out of his body like molasis, and the relief was coming in. The force of it all came crashing down on him and Johnny was amazed to find that tears were in his eyes. Roy was going to be alright.

Little by little, more improvements to Roy's health were made. By the end of the week he was off the ventilator and on a nasal canula, his broken arm and fractures were healing nicely, and there was no sign of infection anywhere. The only thing that really concerned the doctors was that despite all his improvments, Roy hadn't woken up once, even a little. It didn't make sense, since they'd taken him off all the heavy medication and the blow to the head was in the wrong place to cause a coma.

"I don't like it Kel, at all," Early said. He, Brackett, and Morton were all in Kel's office, talking it over.

"Neither do I. There's no apparent cause for it, yet he's remained in the same unconcious state since he got here." Kel leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "I can't think of anything, all the nurological tests are negative, his reflexes are getting better. What else is there?"

"Maybe it's psychotic," ventured Mike. Both senior doctors looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Mike looked at Joe and folded his hands on his lap, much like a schoolboy.

"Well, all the stress he's been under in the past few months: the death of his wife, having to raise two children by himself, work, a number of things, maybe he's escaping from it for a while."

Kel chuckled. "Roy isn't one to run away from his problems."

"I know that, but it could be that it isn't a...concious desicion. It could be his psychi trying to get him to rest and recharge, so to speak."

"Sounds plausible to me," said Joe, looking at Kel. He shrugged.

"Yeah." The conversation was interrupted by a loud yell and a crash. Jumping up, the three men sprinted out of the office and into the waiting room, then through the double doors to the ER waiting room. An older woman was trying to get around a nurse and two orderlies, yelling and shouting. A police officer walked through the ER doors and she calmed a little, turning to him.

"Officer, thank goodness you're here. Come with me, I want you to arrest someone!"

Brackett stepped forward. "What's going on here?" He looked at the nurse who gave him a helpless shake of the head and shrug of the shoulders. The woman whirled around to face him, her hair falling down a bit more from it's bun.

"And who are you?"

He straightened and crossed his arms. "Dr. Brackett, and you are?"

"Martha Lisbon, and don't take that attitude with me young man, you hear?" She turned back to the officer. "Now, will you arrest him or won't you?"

"Arrest who, ma'am," asked Vince.

"John Gage. He's here in this hospital, I know he is!"

"Why do you want to arrest John Gage, Mrs. Lisbon?" Dixie came up and motioned for the staff to get back to their duties.

"He's got my grandchildren, and won't give them to me." Vince and Brackett exchanged glances. "I'm their grandmother, they should be staying with me, not some fireman who isn't even blood related to them!"

"I'm close enough," Johnny's familar voice said. He had just come up in time to hear her last statement and was frowning. Roy hadn't heard anything from the woman in the weeks before his accident, and Johnny was hoping the luck would continue.

Martha pointed a finger at him and practically screeched, "There he is officer, arrest him, right now."

Vince nodded to John, who returned the gesture. "Got any idea what this lady's talking about, John?"

"Not really, no, but no one really ever does, you know."

Dixie was amazed Johnny would talk so callously about another person. What had this woman done to deserve it?

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You kidnapped my grandchildren and held them hostage from me!" Vince raised an eyebrow at Johnny.

"I did not kidnap them, and I haven't been holding them hostage!" His frown had turned into a glare. "You-"

"Maybe we should continue this in my office, huh?" For the first time, Brackett realized just how much attention the conversation was getting.

"No, this man just needs to be arrested right now and this whole thing will be over." Martha nodded, as if confidant. Vince took a step toward her.

"Ma'am, why don't we go to the office." It wasn't a suggestion. Martha huffed and followed Brackett, muttering to herself the entire way.

"Now, let's see if I got this right. You think John Gage kidnapped and held your grandchildren hostage." Martha nodded. "Why?"

"They should have come to me, as soon as Roy was hurt and unable to care for them himself, they should have come to stay with me, not that...that...red skin savage!" The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

"There's no need for that Mrs. Lisbon. Keep it up and I'll charge you with slander," warned Vince.

"Me? He's the one you should be charging. Go on, get to it, do your job." She waved a hand. Dixie rolled her eyes at John. He agreed whole-heartedly.

"Vince, I can clear all this up real quick." John pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and stood next to the officer, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Roy and Joanne asked me to sign a paper that would make me the kids' guardian in case something happened to them. It said that custody of them would go to me until they reach 18. All the proper signatures are on there, all legal and everything."

Vince nodded at the same time Martha let out a stream of indignant sputters. "Mrs. Lisbon, if Gage has legal papers saying he's the guardian of the DeSoto kids if something happens to their parents, there's nothing I can do about it." She sputtered some more before drawing herself up high.

"We'll just see about that!" That being said, she marched out the room and slammed the door.

"Mrs. Lisbon, there's nothing this court can do," said a judge, one week later. Martha had taken Johnny to court, challenging his rights as guardian on the grounds that he wasn't an acceptable caregiver.

"Your honor-" His shake of the head cut her short.

"No, listen. You've tried to prove that Mr. Gage can't properly take care of the children on the grounds that his job is too dangerous. There's no way you can satisfactorily prove that to me. You've tried saying that the documents sighting Mr. Gage as legal guardian is a forgery and not legal. I can assure you, ma'am, they are. This court finds in favor of Mr. John Gage, and that he will retain full custody of the children until such time as their father is well." The judge raised his gavil, pounded it once, and spoke again. "And I hope that he will get well very soon. Good luck to you, sir," he said in parting to Johnny. Martha glared at him, then stormed out of the courtroom.

It was the talk to the station next shift, and all of A-shift commented on how the judge had made the right call. Even B-shift going out had congragulated Johnny and wished him luck. The conversation about Martha inevitably lead to talk of Joanne and what happened to her. No one seemed to notice when Keith left the room at that point.

Adam was excited. Three weeks after their breakthrough with the ropes, he and Todd were going through every single fireman's file at both Station's 49 and 51, hoping to find something. They did. Well, they themselves didn't.

"Theresa, if this pans out then I'll marry you," he said to one of the female sergeants sitting at a desk, putting papers in a folder. She looked up and smiled, winking one green eye at him.

"As tempting as it is to be the fourth Mrs. Adam Barton, I think I'll pass up the marraige proposal and settle for dinner instead," she said, handing him the folder. He took it and kissed the back of her hand, grinning charmingly.

"You're a doll, Theresa, an absolute doll. You can count on it." He went off to his desk, leaving her sighing and smiling behind him.

Todd saw him walking past the break room and headed out, following his fast paced clip with long easy strides. "Well? What she find?"

"I'm looking, I'm looking." He thumbed through another page. Then another. He paused at one, read over it again, then handed it to Todd, who read it. They looked at each other, excitment shining in their eyes.

"Station 51, Engine 49, Engine 76, Battalion 14, warehouse fire, at the docks. Time out, 2007."

49 was the first to pull up to the scene, followed closely by 51. By the time Battalion 14 got there, lines from all three companies were battling the blaze on the west end of a large warehouse.

Men were inside, looking for victims and making sure there would be no surprises; the report was that the warehouse stored boat parts. John and another firefighter were searching, but they weren't finding much among the cardboard boxes.

"There's nothing in here, let's go," said Johnny, turning behind him to the guy from 49's. He wasn't there. Johnny felt a moment of panic, wondering if maybe he had falllen and gotten hurt and couldn't call for help. A shuffling noise behind him had Johnny turning around quickly but not in time to avoid the stack of boxes that were falling toward him.

When he cautiuosly opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling of the building. He shifted a little and grunted with the pain it brought. Boxes were laying on his chest, across his abdomen and hips, a few on his right shoulder. Running through his mental checklist, Johnny figured, and hoped, that the worst was a few cracked ribs, maybe a twisted ankle from when he turned and fell. Looking to the left of him, he saw the HT and reached for it, fingers mere inches away when a clear, cold voice made him pause.

"Looks like you're in quite a pickle, Gage."

Johnny looked back up and saw the fireman from 49's who had been with him standing over him, hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels, an interested expression on his face. His breathing equipment was off, so was his helmet, and his turnout coat was open. The man looked at the boxes, at the stacks, then back at Johnny's face.

"Hey, wanna help me out of here?" The guy actually thought about it.

"Not really, no."

In his mask, Johnny felt his mouth drop open. What the hell? "Come one man, what's your problem."

"You are." The interested look turned into one of hate and displeasure. "You and your partner are my problem."

What the hell?! The fireman moved around some boxes not so carefully, each shift of weight causing more pain. He took off Johnny's helmet and mask. "You don't really need these, do ya? Nah, not too much smoke in here." He stood and walked back around to his original position, seeming to enjoy every hiss of pain Johnny made. "That's better, huh?"

"What are you talking about? What did we do to you?" Johnny reached again for the HT, those inches seeming like miles.

"It's what you did to my brother, not me. Ed Marlow, you remember him?"

Gage stopped reaching and started racking his brain. Marlow, Marlow...the Army guy, who hadn't wanted to follow protocol, thought he knew as much or more than the doctors.

"Oh, him." Johnny's eyes widened. "He was your brother? Look, him flunking out of the program was his own fault, not ours! He's the one who wanted to go into business for himself, and tried to play up the fact that he was some hotshot in Vietnam."

"Shut your mouth," he fairly shouted. He winced and looked around, almost nervously, then back at Johnny with anger burning in his eyes. "Ed was a genius, an incredible medic and firefighter. All that changed after you and your partner got a hold of him."

"Look, Marlow," began Johnny. His fingertips brushed the side of the HT.

"My name isn't Marlow, it's Campbell, Joseph Campbell."

"Oh. Alright, Joseph." Almost, almost, come on...his fingers curled around the device and slowly, ever so slowly, he brought it closer. Getting a better grip on it, he pushed the button. "Joseph, you gotta believe me, Roy and I didn't do anything to Ed, besides try to show him how what he was doing wasn't right if he wanted to be a paramedic."

Campbell shrugged, put his hands in the pockets of his coat. "If that's what your truth is, fine. Now, here's my truth. After my brother was rejected for the paramedics, and back in 49's, he began to notice something. Guys would suddenly stop talking when he came in a room. They were hesitant to go with him into rescues and buildings, didn't want to back him up on the line. When he asked, one of 'em said that they just couldn't trust him to follow the book and do as ordered. See, they thought he would do what he did in paramedic training, jump the gun and go his own way. And that's dangerous for firefighters, when every action is dependant on the book and orders." He walked over to what remained of the stack of boxes that had falled and sat down on the top, looking at his feet. Johhny prayed to God that someone on the other end of the HT was listening to this, getting help.

"But that's not our fault," argued Johnny when Campbell had been silent for a while. "We never told any of the guys at 49's what happened with Marlow, and I know no one else at 51's did. You can't pin what other men are thinking and feeling on me and Roy."

"Maybe you and your shift didn't talk about it, but someone sure did. Gossip is worse in a fire department than it is at an office water cooler. And I can pin it on you two. You're the ones who were able to give him the recommendation, but you didn't. If he'd just gotten the certification, it would have been alright, and Ed would still be around."

"What?" John hoped what he was thinking wasn't the truth. "Did Marlow...did he...?"

"Commit suicide?" Joseph scoffed and folded a leg over his knee, vicously kicking a box in the process. "I don't know, I haven't seen him or talked to him in months. For all I know, he could be. You see, it got to the point where he couldn't deal with the mistrust, and he knew he couldn't transfer, it would be the same there. So he quit. He'd lost his passion for medicine, then he lost his passion for firefighting. All because Roy DeSoto and John Gage couldn't give an inch."

"We can't," panted John, pain making him breathless. "We can't in our work, it can kill people."

"Ed would have been able to help people, used his knowledge and expertise to save lives but he never got to!" Joseph stood again and began pacing, running a hand through his brown hair. "You just don't know what kind of damage you did to him, just dropped him and forgot him, like so many others in his life. But I'll fix that, I swear to God!"

"Joseph, you cut Roy's rope, didn't you? You almost killed him." Johnny saw Jenny and Chris sitting on Roy's hospital bed. "You nearly left two innocent children without a father!"

Shame and maybe remorse swept over his face, and Joseph began shaking his head. "No, no, I didn't mean to hurt him that bad. I thought that maybe the rope would break when he was farther down, that he'd be hurt just enough to break his leg or something. I didn't want to kill him." He kept shaking his head and muttering the last line to himself, pacing again.

"What exactly was your plan, then?" _'Just keep talking_,' he thought. _'Cap, please, please be hearing this!_'

"I just wanted to get you guys to quit, like Ed had. I wanted you out of the department, at nearly any cost."

Johnny thought back to the weeks and months after Joannes death, how he thought Roy was so close to quitting the department. "Did you hit Joanne with that car? Did you kill Roy's wife?"

Campbell looked shocked at the idea. "No! Even if his wife was guilty by association, I couldn't hurt her. She didn't have anything to do with it directly."

Johnny nodded, feeling that he was being truthful. He let his eyes wander around the large space. Why in the world was nobody else in this area? Why hadn't anyone come yet? In a moment of panic, he looked down at the HT, to assure himself that he was still holding down the button. There was a sharp intake of breath and he turned his eyes back to Campbell, who had a new fury in his face. Johnny shrank back as far as he could against the cement floor in a natural instinct to get away from the craziness he saw. Campbell stepped forward.

"Joseph, I thought you didn't want to kill us," he said in a ditch effort to get the man back to some sanity.

"I changed my mind."

Johnny closed his eyes.

**Black-Angel-001: now we know who done it to roy. i've gotten a kick out of reading your theories, it was fun. please review! thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Acts of Desperate Men**

_"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?"_ -Bob Marly, _'Bad Boys'_

Stanley couldn't believe the luck they were having. The fire was staying failry well contained in that one part of the warehouse, nobody was hurt, missing or having issues, and he had a firm hope that he and his crew would get back to the barn in time for an early lights out. Even the other captains and battalion chief made mention of the good stroke of luck.

They should've knocked on wood, or better yet, bitten their tounges.

"Engine 49, HT 49. The fire is moving to the eastern and southern part of the building. We need more lines in here."

"10-4," Jessie Hutchinson, 49's captain, replied. He shared a look with Hank.

Hank was about to say it couldn't get any worse when the HT in hand beeped. He held it to his ear, but there was a moment of silence and then, "Roy and I didn't do anything to Ed, besides try to show him how what he was doing wasn't right if he wanted to be a paramedic."

Stanley frowned at the HT. What was Gage talking about? HE was about to reply when another voice came through the speaker.

"If that's what your truth is, fine. Now, here's my truth."

Stanley and Hutchinson listened carefully and with each word, horror grew. The battalion chief came over to see what everyone was standing around for and was about to reprimand the captains for shushing him when Johnny asked a question that made their breaths catch.

"Joseph, you cut Roy's rope, didn't you? You almost killed him. You nearly left two innocent children without a father!"

By then, a large number of firemen had come up, the fire nearly out, and heard the accusation. 49's men didn't really want to believe it; Joseph Campbell was a good firefighter, a decent guy. No one had any problems with him. The men at 51 had a very different attitude. Johnny's instincts about people were usually right on the mark, and if he believed Campbell nearly killed Roy...

"No, no, I didn't mean to hurt him that bad."

That was all 51's crew had to hear.

"Jesus, Hank, I didn't know, I swear," Hutchinson said, shock playing over his features.

"More important right now, who's in there helping Gage," said Mike, hating for the first time in a long time that his post was with the engine.

"I sent Chet and Marco in, and Larry sent two of his men with them to help."

Chet and Marco didn't know that the fireman with Johnny had cut Roy's rope-they hadn't heard that part of the transmission. All they really knew for sure was that the fireman with Johnny wasn't very friendly and if he wanted a fight he'd sure as hell get one. They could hear Johnny's voice now, but the stacks of boxes prevented them from seeing too far ahead, and created a kind of maze. The two from 76's followed behind, looking around. Because the fire had gotten stronger and bigger, there was much more smoke, adding to the difficulty.

All four came around a tower of boxes and stopped mid-step at the sight they saw.

Campbell was leaning over Johnny, hands around his neck. Johnny couldn't do much to get him off, pinned as he was. All he could really do was hit at Campbell with his free hand, but it didn't seem to have much effect.

Chet didn't hit Campbell first only because Marco's legs and strides were longer.

When Marco's punch connected with Campbell's jaw, the force was just enough to loosen his hands from Johnny's neck. Chet's tackle sent the two of them into boxes, which crashed noisly. Marco and the other two tossed away what was on Johnny, Marco putting his mask on Johnny's face to help with the coughing.

"Man, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," said John between coughs.

"I think I do," replied Marco, smiling. "Are you hurt?"

"Ribs and ankle. Dunno if anything's broken, but it doesn't feel like it."

Marco nodded and looked over at Chet. The Irishman was roughly pulling Joseph up from the floor, and didn't seem too interested in the man's complaints about his bloody nose.

"You okay, Chet," asked Marco, coughing.

"Yeah, just my shoulder, again, I think." He glared at Campbell. "And if you don't shut up I'll break your jaw!"

Campbell grew quiet.

Between Marco and one of the other men, Johnny was able to make it out without too much pain. An ambulance and squad was there, and another car with two familiar faces standing nearby. A breath of relief passed through the crowd.

"John, you alright," Stanley asked anxiously.

Gage could bare answer for the coughing, so he nodded as Marco helped take off his gear. Hank saw the bruises around his paramedics neck, and frowned deeply. Mike came up and saw them too, and he glowered. Chet pushed Campbell forward, who came to a stumbling stop in front of a group of very pissed off firemen. Hank stepped forward, fist raised.

"Hank," warned the chief as he touched the captain's arm, "there are cops here."

As soon as Campbell had made an apperance, Barton and Burnes had come forward, but now they stopped and looked around. Every firefighter turned to look at them. The cops looked at each other.

"Hey, Todd, I think we have a flat tire," said Adam, clapping the chief on the shoulder before turning.

Todd nodded vigourously. "Yeah, I think you're right. Better check it out, huh?"

The pair strolled back to the car and pointedly kept their backs to the group. Hank looked at the chief, who shrugged.

"Cap, I want first hit," said Mike, still glaring at Campbell.

"Technically, it's third hit since Marco got him first," put in Chet.

"Sorry Stoker, but I get him before you." Hank pulled back and let loose. Campbell fell back, but a group grabbed him and shoved him back up right. Just in time for Mike's punch to make contact with his eye.

"This isn't right," a voice said. Everyone's attention turned to Brice.

A fireman stepped forward threatingly. "YOu gonna report it, Mr. Rulebook?"

Craig shook his head and pointed to Johnny. "By all rights, Gage should have had first punch, and the second one, one for him, and the other for his partner, since DeSoto isn't here."

They all looked at each other.

"Y'know for once, I really do agree with Brice!" Heads nodded.

"Sorry Johnny." Gage looked at Lopez.

"S'alright," he rasped. "Couldn't have if I wanted to at the time." He turned his focus to Joseph, who was sporting a busted lip, nose, black eye, and already bruising jaw. JOhnny hobbled to Campbell until they stood toe to toe. As hard as he could, he hit him in the side of his ribs. Grunting, Campbell fell forward. Johnny caught his shoulder and held him upright, leaning just enough to whispher in his ear.

"I can't say I hate you, 'cause I really understand why you did it. But," he dug his fist in harder and the other man groaned. "I can't take the high road, either, and just let it go. Not when my best friend is in a hospital in a coma and his kids are alone. Guess I'm not much better than you, goddamn it all."

Johnny shoved Campbell back, and again some men caught him. Brice and Bellingham each took one of Johnny's arms and lead him to the ambulance. They dragged Campbell over, too.

"Okay, let's pack up and head out," Stanley said to his crew. They all looked at each other.

"Uh, Cap, I kinda hurt my shoulder in there," Chet said sheepishly, rubbing it.

"Yeah, and I hurt my hand," added Lopez.

"Same here," said Mike, holding his hand.

Hank sighed. "Looks like we're all going to Rampart." He turned to the chief, who was already nodding.

"I'll make the call," he said, grinning.

"Hey, where's whats his name? Kevin, Kyle, or something," asked Chet, looking around.

"Keith?" Hank looked too. "Haven't seen him. Great." He turned back to the chief.

"I'll take care of that, too."

"We don't have to look for more flat tires, do we," joked Barton as he and his partner came up.

"No, I don't believe so," smiled Hank.

Burnes laughed. "That's good, because by the time Campbell was ready, we'd check the entire car. I feel more like a mechanic than a cop!"

"Speaking of," began chief, turning serious. "What are you going to say or do about-?"

The remaining firemen paused in their work and held their breaths as Adam looked around.

"About what? While we were waiting for Campbell, I thought there was a flat, so we checked it out. When Campbell came out, he was already busted looking. I'm assuming he fell inside?"

The firemen smiled.

"A flat tire?"

Adam and Todd were standing in front of their captain, calmly. Captain Frank Murdock tapped his fingers on his desk, looking at his detectives with some disbelief.

"Do you really expect me to believe you had a flat tire?"

"Well, sir, we didn't say we did have a flat, just that we thought-"

"Okay, enough," interrupted Frank. He picked up a paper and looked at it as he talked. "And you really think I'll take the 'he fell down' story? You know how often that's been used? Practically since the police force was created!"

Again, Adam answered. "Sir, we never said he did fall, just that we thought-"

"That he fell, I know, I know." He picked up another paper. "Now what do you have to say about an entire engine company going to the hospital for 'treatment of injuries sustained in line line of duty'?"

Adam raised any eyebrow. "That firefighting is a dangerous job and they should apply for worker's comp or talk to the union?"

Todd snickered. Frank shot him a glance before throwing down the paper.

"Couldn't come up with anything bettter than a flat tire?"

Tood grinned. "Kinda hard to think with firemen willing and ready to use axes and k-12's on you are standing around." Adam nodded.

Murdock leaned back in his chair, studying them. Finally, he waved them away, saying, "Type it up and lock it up gentlemen. And be prepared to cover your sorry asses it the guy decides to say different. Oh, pass that advice to the firemen, huh?"

Adam and Todd grinned at each other.


	10. Chapter 10

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: it took chugging 2 mtn. dews and a bag of candy corn, then drinking 3 bottles of mtn. dew, but i finally got this chapter written! enjoy!**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_Oh Father, who art in Heaven, have mercy on this, your wretched child. Oh Lord, who art my savior and protector, the enemy, my foe, tries to devour me but I am saved by your grace_." --from a prayer for salvation and hope

As Johnny was wheeled through the hallway of the ER to an exam room, he kept his eyes focues on the ceiling. The voices and sounds around him were familiar, but different, and he found he couldn't focus on any of it. Which was just well, since he had other things on his mind. In very short order, Johnny was put into a room, and seconds later Dr. Brackett came in.

"Johnny, how do you feel," he asked while pressing on his rib cage and abdomen.

"Crappy," he croaked. Between the smoke and choking, John's voice was nearly gone.

"I can imagine." Brackett straightened a little and folded his arms. "It doesn't feel like anything is broken and your abdomen is okay. We're still going to take some x-rays."

"Kay." Johnny's eyes slid closed and then flew open in panic. "The kids, what about-"

"Dix is taking care of that," soothed Kel. "She's calling Reia and Stacey, and one of them will take care of the kids." He patted John's shoulder. "Hang tight."

Johnny closed his eyes again. Joseph Capbell stared at him, anger and hate burning on his face.

He opened his eyes quickly and flinched when a hand softly touch his tead. When he looked, he saw Dixie's tear-filled eyes.

"Dix?" Why was she crying? "Is Roy-?"

"No, he's alright." Dixie blinked and took his hand. "Johnny, I thought..." She breathed deeply. "You were almost killed. I don't think I could handle it if both of you were-" She cut herself off on a choking sob and squeezed his hand hard.

Johnny was amazed and speechless. He and Dixie were friends, good friends, but he never would have thought she'd react like this to him almost being killed.

"Aw, come on, Dixie," he ginned. "I've been almost killed before."

"This is different," she sniffed. "This time you were almost murdered."

He froze and stared at her with an expression he was sure mimicked a deer in the headlights. Before the conversation could continue, the x-ray tech came in, and she had to leave. The x-rays were taken in total silence, except for the techs commands. Johnny didn't really feel like talking.

Finally, Brackett came back with the x-rays, said the ribs were cracked, the ankle was just sore muscles, the bruises on his neck weren't serious, but because of mild smoke inhilation and a somewhat swollen throat, he'd be staying at Rampart for a while.

Johnny didn't fight it, just kept silent. They put him in a dark room, where there was a machine beeping steadily, and someone breathing in an even, slow rythm. Something about the cadence of breath was familiar, and comforting. In the early hours of the morning, with his mind full of thoughts, Johnny fell asleep with a feeling of something being right.

His dreams were a jumble, and didn't make sense. One moment, Johnny would be pinned and choking, the next he would be starring into a terrified face, which was gasping for air, the wide blue eyes familiar and haunting. He woke several times coughing, which intensified the pain in his ribs. Each time, a voice he knew but could not quite place gently talked him back to sleep.

When he finally woke up and stayed awake, the first thing he was aware of was pain. Even lying down, every tissue and fiber in his body hurt. He could breath a little easier, since the swelling had gone down, but his throat was still sore and dry. Johnny blinked against the light in the room. Someone shifted in the bed next to him and sighed.

What was so freaking familiar about the person next to him? Johnny coughed and made a small sound of pain.

"It's alright," a voice cracked. "Nothing's going to hurt you, I promise."

Realization hit Johnny like a lighting strike. He quickly sat up and looked over.

"Roy?!"

Roy shifted his entire upper torso until he was looking at Johnny. He was still wearing the neck brace, and his arm was still in a cast and elevated, but he was awake.

Roy was awake!

"Awake for real this time?" Roy cracked a grin.

Johnny could only sit in his bed and stare. Same face, same eyes, same grin, just lined with slight pain and fatigue. The grin turned into a frown.

"Johnny?"

Gage leaned back against his pillows.

"Okay, whatever Doc Brackett gave me is really messing me up," he said out loud to himself. "Or, this is some weird dream. Either way, it's cruel, and I want it to stop."

"You're incredible. You really are too much. You defy human logic."

There it was, that tone Roy had. Ever so slowly, Johnny sat up again and looked at Roy. And there was the expression to go with the tone.

"Oh, my God," he breathed. "You're really awake? For real?"

"Yeah, I'm really awake." Without much warning, Johnny started crying. Roy moved to go to him, but shooting pain in his neck and the heavy plaster on his arm stopped him. "Ah, damn it!" He looked over at Johnny as much as he was able. "Come on Johnny, don't." Roy swallowed a few times. Using your voice after weeks of not talking was rough.

"It's the medication," Brackett said after he walked in. He went over to Johnny and rubbed his shoulder. "Johnny, it's alright. You can stop now."

"Sorry, don't think I c-can," he said around the tears. He scrubbed his hands over his face, but the tears kept flowing.

"Alright then, just let it out." Brackett looked over at Roy. After a few more minutes, Johnny stopped crying and rubbed a hand against his eyes.

"Doc, you gotta change the medication if I'm gonna be doing that," he mumbled. He was very embarressed at how he cried like a baby for no real good reason, and they all knew it.

"Well John, I think you've got very good reason to cry like that, considering." Brackett looked him over, checking his throat and ribs. "It's all looking pretty good. Maybe by this afternoon you'll be out of here, and by the beginning of next week back at work."

"That's a long time to be out," commented Johnny absently as he leaned against the pillows. Roy snorted. "Well, y'know."

"Do I ever." Roy shifted again to look over at John. "So, tell me what's been happening while I was out of it. I got the short abridged version, but not much in the way of details."

"First, answer me this. When did you wake up, exactly?"

"Exactly? I don't know that, but I opened my eyes and talked back about...what Dr. Brackett, two days ago?"

Johnny's eyes went wide. "Two days? And you didn't tell me? Why the hell not?!"

"Because at that point Roy wasn't responding very well and I didn't want to get your hopes up if it turned out that he was..."

"A vegetable," finished DeSoto. Johnny looked between the two.

"But...he's okay...you're okay now, right?"

"Yeah, considering. So, tell me what's happened? You almost got killed?"

Johnny flashed back to those moments in the warehouse and shivered, then winced. "Uh...yeah, that's what they tell me."

Roy stared at Johnny a minute, then smiled a little. "Alright, Johnny. When you're ready to talk, let me know. Okay partner?"

Johnny relaxed visibly. He wasn't ready to talk about everything that had happened or was going to happen, and Roy knew it. "Thanks."

As promised, Johnny was back at work by the beginning of the next week. Roy was still being kept there at the hospital, mostly because the doctors wanted to see if any changes might occur in his behavior or mentality. Johnny figured if none had yet, they weren't going to. No one on his shift really talked about the night at the warehouse. Mostly because when one guy from "C" shift had tried to mention it, they had all glared at him evily and Mike actually growled. As far as anyone was concerned, it was all in the hands of the cops, and everyone wished them well with the headache. There hand't been any reprimand for the punches, but they didn't expect it. Campbell knew the system well; he'd gotten off light really. He knew that and wasn't about to contradict whatever story the cops had come up with. As for the firefighters, who were they to contradict a trained police officer in his job? They were just hose jockey's after all.

Keith had yet to show up or be found since the warehouse, and Johnny was only concerned he was missing because the kid wasn't that bad. Terrible paramedic, though. At least he was getting a seasoned partner this time around, even if it was Brice. But Brice had let up some, just enough that he didn't terrify patients into cardiac arrests or make the other guys want to leave the room. Unfortunatly, Station 51's "A" shift had a complete and total rookie firefighter, to take Chet's place until his shoulder was better.

"Do you really not know how to start the k-12," asked Hank, staring at the rookie with wide disbelieving eyes. Gage and Brice had just walked in the dayroom from a run and got a cup of coffee, looking around.

"Who doesn't?" Mike nodded over to the boot, Leon Orcot. John coughed on his coffee a little, and even Brice made a sound of amusement.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we," grinned Johnny, slapping Leon on the back. Leon grinned nervously.

"Come on, we'll show you." Mike led the way out to the engine, opened a compartment, and pulled out the k-12, setting it on the floor. "Now, the trick is speed."

"Speed," asked Orcot, looking a little unsure.

"Speed," answered Johnny and Marco together.

"It takes some skill just to turn this on, never mind operating it." Mike hefted it up and looked it over admiringly. "It can cut through anything you want, just as long as you get the speed right the first time."

"So, how do you turn it on?"

Mike smiled charmingly. "Easy. You put it against the ground and run as fast as you can with it."

Cap started coughing and had to go to his office, said he needed to finish paperwork. Johnny, Marco, and Craig were all amused but Leon was back to being unsure.

"You run with it?"

"Yeah."

"On the ground?"

"Yeah."

"As fast as you can, remember," put it Marco.

"Yeah, speed is the key here," added Johnny.

"Really," Leon asked, turning to Brice. Brice nodded firmly.

"Absolutely. The difference between a good firefighter and the best firefighter is how well you start the k-12."

"Wanna give it a shot?" Mike held out the machinery to Leon. Leon looked at it, then at all the other firemen and shrugged and nodded. "Great! Let's go outside, more room."

The group went out to the sidewalk, cap coming out to watch. Mike handed Leon the k-12, who hesitated.

"Go on," urged Marco.

With a deep breath, Leon put the machine on the cement, and with one last look at the crew, started running. The others cheered him on, told him to go faster. Near the end of the sidewalk, Leon tripped and fell on his face. Ignoring them, Orcot stood, brushed himself off, picked up the k-12 and walked back, red in the face from running and embarresment.

"Okay, what did this experience tell you," asked Mike.

"That I'm a gullible idiot." Johnny shook his head.

"No, no, no, no. You aren't a gullible idiot Leon, you're just a rookie."

"A boot," added Marco.

"A newbie," said Hank.

"A probie," put in Mike.

"Alright, I get it, I'm the new guy." Leon grinned. Mike put an arm around his shoulders.

"Come on so I can show you how to start this thing for real."

Leon stopped short. "I don't have to run, do I?"

"I wouldn't suggest you run and start this at the same time," advised Marco.

"Uncle Johnny, why would you play that sort of joke on someone new," asked Jenny after Johnny had told the tale to Roy, his kids, Reia, and Stacey.

"Yeah, I thought it was mean to do that." Chris eyed his father with some suspicion. Both children were sitting on the bed, cuddled near their father.

"Well, uh, we didn't mean...that is I..." Johnny looked at Roy. "Come on, partner, help me out here!"

"Kids, what your uncle Johnny is trying so articulatly to say is, they didn't intend for the joke to be mean spirited. It was more an initiation, like, 'Welcome to the fire station' like that."

"But it was still mean," insisted Jenny.

"That depends on how you look at it, and which side of the fence you're on," said Roy. "When I was a rookie, they played a recording of an old call while I was in the shower and when I ran out I was not only dripping wet, I was half dressed and ended up falling tring to get a sock on."

Jenny and Chris laughed at the pictures that came in their heads. Johnny shifted his feet, looked at Roy, out the window, at Reia, at the ceiling, then back at Roy. He had been doing that since he got there, Roy had noticed, and he was worried. Johnny wanted to say something, and badly.

"Kids, why don't you and your aunts go see Dixie, huh?"

"You want to talk to uncle Johnny, don't you," asked Chris.

"I thought I might." Roy watched Johnny's reaction carefully. His ears had turned red at the tips and he turned away, still shuffling around. When the women and kids left, Roy pushed himself up a little straighter on his bed. "Okay Johnny, what's on your mind?"

Johnny turned around and bit his lip. He thought he was ready to talk about everything, but right then he wasn't so sure. And what would Roy think of him besides? The older man's opinion was very important to him, and he didn't want to loose his respect.

"I wanted to apologize." Johnny bounced on the toes of his feet, looking down.

"Apologize, for what?" He could hear the bewilderment in Roy's voice and looked up.

"For that fire before your...accident." Johnny hesitated on the word.

"Attempted murder. Call it like it is, Johnny." Roy didn't seem to have a problem saying it, and did so without flinching.

"Okay, fine, that. I'm sorry about what happened at the fire before, both at the scene and the station. I should've listened to you, but I didn't, I really didn't mean for it to sound like I don't trust you, and I don't want you to have to take the burden if someone had died."

"Johnny, there's gonna be more times when you don't listen to me, and sometimes it'll turn out okay, other times not so much. As for you trusting me, I know you do, and if someone had died then, or if anyone does in the future, God forbide, I want to take that burden."

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" John moved closer and sat down in a chair positioned so Roy wouldn't have to strain so much to look at someone.

"Because I don't want you to have to live with it," answered Roy, as if that said everything.

"I don't need you to protect me, Roy," gritted out John. "I never asked you to, damn it! I don't need it!"

"That's bullshit and you know it. The minute you and I were teamed up was when we started looking out for and protecting each other. And I don't mean it to sound the way you're taking it, I know you're gonna take some hard hits from this job. But whatever I can take for you, I will."

"I don't need you to," insisted Johnny.

"I know. Won't stop me though. You're more of a brother to me than my real one, and that means I'm gonna look out for you wether you like it or not." Roy cast his eyes down. "Like you would for me."

Johnny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The conversation had gotten away from him. Roy spoke again.

"I'm sorry too, for just yelling at you like that."

"If you can't yell at your brother, who can you yell at," joked John. They shared a grin, but John's soon faded. "They told you about Campbell?"

"Yeah, a little. He confessed to everything over the HT, then tried to kill you." There it was, the same calmness again.

"How can you do that? Take it so...calmly?"

"I've been nearly killed before, that's why. Once it happens a couple dozen times you get used to it." Roy waved a hand to dismiss it. "Johnny, cut through the red tape and tell me what's bugging you, okay?"

John stood and began to pace. "I'm not much better than Joseph Campbell," he said after much silence and a lot of false starts.

"What," frowned Roy.

"It's true, I am."

"Johnny, you-"

"When I found out that he'd done this to you, put you in a coma, nearly killed you, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him suffer in ways that were ten times worse than what you were going through. It actually crossed my mind to kill him."

Roy stared at his friend wordlessly, tracking his jittery movements and just watched him. The silence unnerved John and made him talk faster.

"I got what he was saying about revenge, cause I wanted the guy that hurt you, the kids, to suffer. I wanted, still want, the guy who killed Joanne to burn in hell. God, I hope Campbell burns in hell and all he wanted was his brother back!" John sat down heavily in the chair, head in his hands. "If you never want me around your kids again, I'll understand. Hell, if you never want me as a partner again I'll understand too."

"So, you associate yourself with Campbell because you wanted to hurt him for hurting me?"

Johnny looked up at Roy, confused. Hadn't he just said as much? He nodded.

"And you want the guy who killed Joanne to suffer in hell?"

John nodded again.

"Johnny, how does that make you like Campbell?"

Gage stared and stared at DeSoto for a long while. Maybe something really was wrong with his brain. "Roy, I wanted to kill him! Hurt him as badly as I could! For no other reason than he hurt you!"

"Did you? Kill him or hurt him badly, I mean."

John paused and thought. "I think I may have cracked a rib or something, but I didn't kill him."

"Are you sorry you didn't kill him?"

"No."

"Are you angry that he's still alive and want him not to be?"

"No."

"Congragulations, Johnny, you had a human moment."

"But it was more than a moment! Ever since I heard that your rope breaking wasn't an accident, I wanted the SOB who did it dead or maimed at the least."

"But you didn't see it through. You let the cops take him away, put him in jail, where he sits waiting for trial."

"Yeah, so?"

"Johnny, that's the difference between you and Joseph Campbell."

John thought about that. For a long time, he'd just wanted revenge for whoever had hurt Roy, and the nameless, faceless stranger who'd taken Joanne from them. When he found out Joseph Campbell had done it, and that it was all to avenge a brother he felt had been severly and unjustly wronged, Johnny had put himself in the same boat as Campbell for no better reason than they'd had the same thoughts and feelings. But he wasn't Joseph Campbell, wasn't even in the same ballpark, because he hadn't carried any of it through.

"Why didn't I figure that out for myself? It's so simple."

"It's usually the simple things that stump us."

"Alright, Mr. DeSoto, time for your," Karen trailed off, the heavy silence and stares between the two men making her wonder just what exactly she had walked into.

Roy started a little and smiled brightly at the woman, waving her in. "It's alright, Miss St. James, come on in."

Karen paused for a heartbeat longer in the doorway before straigtning up and pulling a small cart in. On it, were an assortment of vials and needles and racks, and Johnny shuddered, remembering the last time he'd been stuck in the hospital and had to have his blood drawn. He smiled at Karen, who smiled and nodded back.

"Are those your kids in the hallway, Mr. DeSoto," she asked conversationally as she tied a rubber band around Roy's arm.

"Yeah, they are," Roy said proudly. "And you can call me Roy, if you'd like."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. Was she blushing? "They're fine looking children." She pressed against the vein in the crook of Roy's arm with a gloved finger. After swabbing the area, she picked up a needle and quickly and efficently put it into the vein, then took off the band.

"How long have you been a nurse," asked Johnny, thinking to make small talk since Roy was too busy staring at the needle in his arm.

"I'm not a nurse," she said, changing out the tube for another. "I'm a phlebotomist. Normally, I work in the ER, but they put me up here since it's quiet down there, thank God."

"But the nurses in ER usually draw blood," said Roy when she pulled out the needle and put cotton on the site and folded his arm up.

Karen snorted and shook her head. "Half the nurses in this hospital can't seem to do it properly. The average sticking rate for a nurse is five times, sometimes more, and by the end of it the patient is black and blue, and the doctor still doesn't have his blood sample."

"Well, some of the nurses we know are pretty good at it," defended Johnny.

"Only because they've had military training," Karen said as she put a small square of gauze over the cotton and wrapped it. That accomplished, she took off her gloves, put on fresh ones, and pushed her cart to the door. "See you guys later."

Roy and John stared after her for a minute. John looked at Roy.

"Who the heck was that?"

Roy just smiled a tiny little bit.

**Black-Angel-001: okay, maybe one, two more chapters. please review! click the green button below this text!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"_Every day is a new day; I'm thankful for every breath I take; I won't take it for granted, so I learn from my mistakes_."--POD, '_Alive'_

**Acts of Desperate Men**

"Has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have, your Honor."

"Will the defendant please rise."

Joseph Campbell and his defense attorney stood, looking calm. The baliff took the paper the jury foreman handed to him, took it to the judge, who nodded and handed it back. In the courtroom, people shuffled and the firemen in the crowd waited anxiously for the verdict, while shooting glares at Campbell's back.

"Please read your verdict," said the judge.

The foreman looked at the paper. "We the jury of this court of California, in the matter of Campbell vs. the City of Los Angelas, on the charge of two counts of 3rd degree assault or battery of firefighters/emergency medical care providers, we find the defendant guilty. On the charge of two counts of 3rd degree aggrivated assault, we find the defendant guilty. On the charge of one count of 3rd degree felony battery by strangulation, we find the defendant guilty. On the charge of two counts 2nd degree attempted felony murder, we find the defendant guilty. On the charge of two counts of 2nd degree felony conspiracy to commit murder, we find the defendant guilty."*

Throughout the reading and each guilty verdict, Campbell remained still and quiet, hardly flinching. But his face was white, and his shackled hands were shaking, with anger or sadness no one knew.

"Mr. Campbell, this court finds you guilty as charged, and you are sentanced to life in prison with no possiblity of parole. It is so ordered," he said with a bang of his gavil. "This court is now adjourned."

Murmmurs went up. Some people thought that it was fair, others thought it was harsh, and others thought it wasn't harsh enough. Quietly, John slipped out of the court room without looking at Campbell as he was lead away by the officers.

"You have no idea how good it is to be home without that stupid brace," groaned Roy in pure relief as he lay back on his own couch, in his own living room, at his own house.

He had been discharged yesterday after a week of being in the hospital for observation and another week for rehab. Brackett was allowing him a few minutes every other day without the brace, but insisted he wear it whenever he had pain. His arm was still in the cast, and it would be another few weeks until that would come off and then it would be more rehab. All of which meant that he couldn't work for nearly two months, not including when he'd have to be re-evaluated physically. And that meant that he didn't have the means to pay the bills, which meant that he would be late and behind with them. But Roy, responsible, steady, on time Roy, didn't care. For the first time since his young adult days, he didn't care one wit about how he was going to pay the bills or what was going to happen with them. He would, he knew, eventually. But for the moment, he was just enjoying being home with his kids and friends, with no doctors or nurses to tell him when to take medication or how to sit up.

Johnny laughed at his friend. "With any luck, I never will have to figure it out." He looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. "Should be here by now..."

"Who?"

Johnny smiled widely and went to answer the knock at the front door. With a grand flourish he pulled it open, swept an arm wide, and said, "Come in, come in, welcome."

As Chet stepped through, his arm still bandaged to his side, he said drolly, "Y'know Gage, the stage really missed out when you decided not to go into acting."

"Yeah, but now we get all that entertainment for free," said Mike as he came in next. In a steady stream, all of Roy's shiftmates came into his living room, including Leon Orcot, and behind them was still more firemen, all old and good friends with Roy when he'd worked at other stations.

Roy pushed himself up on the couch. "What're you guys doing here?"

Hank stepped forward. "First, even though you already know it we wanted to say it again. Roy, it is great to have you up and going, and if this ever happens again, I'm gonna make sure you're put on a desk or something for the rest of your career!"

"Careful cap, deskies tend to hold a lot of sway over things like transfers and making sure paperwork for promotion doesn't get lost," grinned Roy good-naturedly.

The captain from 49, Jessie Hutchinson, stepped up and cleared his throat. "And I wanted to apologize. I'd had no idea about Campbell and if I had, then maybe you and Gage-"

"It's alright cap, I've got no hard feelings for anybody," assured Roy. He knew that if Hutchinson had had any clue about what Campbell was going to do, he would have taken action. That knowledge was enough for him.

"And finally, the big event that pertains mainly to why they're here," Johnny said into the silence. It broke all the men out of their thoughts and put smiles back on their faces.

"We passed around the boot for you Roy," said Marco.

"What?"

Leon rolled his eyes. "It's really corny, but they thought you'd get a kick out of it." He kept his arm behind his back as he walked up to the couch. Roy hadn't noticed that before. "As the official boot of Station 51, they sent me around to take up a collection for you with," he brought his arm out from behind his back, "your boot."

Roy stared at his turnout boot dangling from Leon's hand. "You guys gave a boot to the boot to pass around?" They nodded. He looked at his son. "Chris, what's that thing you do? Y'know, the one that annoys me sometimes?"

Chris made a motion like he was drumming and said, "Do-do, tsh!"

"Hey, you mind taking it already? My arm is getting tired."

"Sorry." Roy took his boot and looked in it. Almost to the top was what he thought could be hundreds of green bills. He blinked.

"There's more, but we couldnt' fit it all in there for the joke," said Hank.

"I can't take this," Roy said, amazed. Johnny looked at him like he was crazy.

"Roy, are you crazy? Or insensitive? Or something? All the guys from the whole department, even the dispatchers, chiped in for you. This is to help you out a little."

"But I don't want-"

"If the word 'charity' comes out of your mouth, I just might knock some sense into you," warned Hank.

"Yeah, it isn't charity, it's us looking out for you," said Chet.

No one commented on the unspoken, "Since we did such a horrible job of it before." that was tacked on the end and went through their minds.

"Thanks," Roy said instead. "Thanks alot you guys, I really appreaciate it. I mean it." He coughed to disguise the emotion thickening his voice.

Most of the firemen went home, except for the 51 crew. Roy didn't mind; he'd missed his friends. But eventually, they too left and Johnny was the only one sitting with Roy in the living room, the kids in their rooms playing. Johnny sat in the armchair drinking a beer, while Roy enviously watched him as he cradled his soda.

"So, what happened to Keith, anyone know?"

"Chief called cap and said that he'd put in his resignation from the department and not much else. Didn't explain why he was missing without a call as to where he was for so long, or why he disappeared at the warehouse that night." Johnny took a long pull from the bottle and Roy's stare intensified for an entirely different reason.

"Johnny, you've gotta deal with it," he said quietly, "or it'll eat you from the inside out."

"What're you talking about Roy? I'm fine." His smile was the typical carefree lopsided grin that Gage usually wore when he was in a happy place in his head, and Roy doubted that he'd seen anything...not normal in his friend.

"So, anyway, chief called Keith and told him not to worry with the resignation, that he was fired." John shook his head. "I'm sorry it turned out that way for the kid, but what else can you expect, huh?"

"Yeah, what else."

In quiet comfort and ease, they drank and thought about things better left alone, things that were better to say aloud, and things that they ignored completely and tucked away to a dark corner of their minds.

**Black-Angel-001: yeah, that was a shortish chapter. there is one more chapter.**

***- The charges listed against Campbell are from the 2009 Florida Statutes. All charges listed are punishable accroding to Florida law by either the death penalty or life in prison with no possibilty of parole, with the exception of assault/battery of public servants (i.e. cops and firefighters, among others), in which you can recieve 3 or more years in prison.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Acts of Desperate Men**

**Black-Angel-001: this is the end chapter. thanks for reading and giving me great reviews! you guys are all awesome and have been the continued inspiration behind this project. that said, there is a sequal to this story in the works. to the reviewer 'hmph': you wanted it, you're gonna get it. don't know how much more hurt you want than what will be in this, the sequal, i mean. and yes, who killed joanne will be revealed in the sequal. now, without further ado, the end.**

**Acts of Desperate Men**

_"Aloha oe aloha oe e ke onna no na noho i ka lipo. One fond embrace a hoi a aeu until we meet again."_ --Hawaiian lyrics of _Aloha Oe_, by Queen Lilioulikalani of Hawaii

That shingle was loose, too, thought Roy as he climbed the ladder. He was clear to go back to work in the next four days, had passed his PT eval, and was anxious to get to the job he loved. Just like he was anxious to get this leaky roof fixed.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?!"

The sharp, angry tone startled Roy, making him loose his balance a little. He gripped the roof tightly and put his feet more firmly against the ladder and worked on calming his thudding heart. Looking at the ground, he saw Johnny, Reia, and his two kids standing there staring up at him. Johnny's hands were on his hips, and he was glaring. Reia's arms were folded across her chest, and she was glaring. Chris and Jenny were staring at him with 'I told you so' expressions and Chris was shaking his head.

"I told him to wait for you, but he wouldn't listen," said his traitourous son.

"Roy, get down from there, now!" Johnny went to hold the ladder while Roy, very reluctantly, climbed down. "Are you nuts? Do you want to break your neck again?"

"I never broke my neck in the first place," Roy said defensively. "It was fractured."

"You're splitting hairs. And, besides that, you just got you're arm out of the cast weeks ago almost! You want to break THAT arm again?"

"I am not going to fall off the roof-I spend half my time on roofs and ladders on the job, anyway."

John started counting off on his hand. "There was the time you fell out of a building, then fell off the roof, there was the time you fell off the roof after you were electorcuted, when you grabbed the escaped convict who was at the edge of the roof and you two fell off, when you-"

"You know what I meant," said Roy with exsasperation.

Reia stepped up to him, shook a finger at him. "No tiene sentido!"

"What?"

"You have no sense!"

"What were you doing up there anyway?" John looked up at the roof in question.

Roy sighed and scratched his chin. "I was going to fix the leak that's up there. The living room carpet and coffee table are practically ruined because of the continual and steady leak whenever it rains."

"Why didn't you wait for me, I would've fixed it for you."

Roy began to lead the group back into the house. "Because I can fix a stinkin' roof, Johnny."

As Johnny launched back into a tyrade about the dangers of fixing a roof after just recovering from serious injuries and a coma, and the stupidness of not waiting for someone to help you at least hold the ladder, Roy smiled to himself and looked out the kitchen window at the sun and greenery. Joseph Campbell was still in prison, he was going back to work, Johnny was getting back to his talkative self, and the kids were slowly but surely opening back up and talking about their mom again. Roy was satisfied. Not content; he couldn't be that until the person who killed Joanne was in jail, but he was satisfied with his life for the moment.

"Oh, yeah, Reia, did you hear? Roy's got a girlfriend."

That brought Roy back to the present. "I what?!"

Johnny grinned and winked at his girlfriend. "Yeah, pretty thing in phlebotomy-"

As Roy and John began their verbal sparring match and the kids and Reia watched with amuesment, Roy absently corrected his earlier thoughts.

He wasn't satisfied.

He was very satisfied.

**_FIN_**

**Black-Angel-001: and we are done. thanks again for being such awesome R&R's, with a special thanks to hotflash for her awesome support and encouragement!, and i hope you'll check out the sequal when it comes out, which will be sometime next week. (i think i hope i pray -crosses fingers-) you guys have been beautiful, good night!**


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